


Unexpected Visitor

by cheebwasabitch



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Abuse, Angry Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Author Is Sleep Deprived, Best Friends, Bisexual Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Blood and Injury, Boys Kissing, Boys' Love, Clay | Dream is So Whipped (Video Blogging RPF), Cute GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Dream is a bit of a dick but it’s fine because of trauma, Everyone Needs A Hug, Flirting, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Flustered Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Flustered GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Gay Panic, GeorgeNotFound Being an Idiot (Video Blogging RPF), Help, Hurt Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Hurt/Comfort, I Tried, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm Sorry, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Karl Jacobs is a God, Kissing, Love, M/M, Mentioned Karl Jacobs, Mentioned Shrek (Shrek), Mild Hurt/Comfort, Minecraft, Minor Karl Jacobs/Sapnap, No Sex, No Smut, Not Beta Read, POV GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Poor Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Protective GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Sad Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Sapnap Needs a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), Shrek References, Soft GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Tags Are Fun, Tags May Change, idk just read it please, im in as much pain as you, not literally but he’s just amazing, sapnap is also amazing, someone be sapnaps friend
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-12 13:34:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 32,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28636347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheebwasabitch/pseuds/cheebwasabitch
Summary: “I...I didn't know where else to go. I don't have anywhere to go,” the man pleaded. His green eyes were teary and his voice was weak, like he was afraid.“I’m sorry, do I know you?” George asked. His voice was so familiar, so soothing, even while cracking painfully, spitting hurt-filled words.“This was stupid. I’m an idiot,” He sounded like…“Dream?”TW: a few chapters in this fic mention blood/injury, self-harm, suicidal thoughts, drinking, panic attacks, and general mental unhealthiness.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Karl Jacobs & Sapnap, Karl Jacobs/Sapnap, does the & mean platonic or something i’m confused, idk how to tag for relationships
Comments: 186
Kudos: 800





	1. Unexpected Visitor

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! I just wanted to put it out there that I love everyone who’s reading this story, I will 100% delete this if any cc’s ever want me to, and that there won’t be any smut in this story.
> 
> Also, I wanted to point out that there are events that aren’t true and have no proof of being true mentioned in this story. Dream, George, and any other people in this story are real people that I have created an alternate world for in which certain events have happened, and I do not know very much about their real lives. Pretty much everything in this story is fictional, and I just thought I should put a reminder out there that these scenarios are entirely made up.
> 
> Also a short TW about panic attacks, abuse, self harm, suicidal thoughts and injuries/blood. A lot of these parts are part of the plot so if you want to try and read it anyway go ahead but it might not make sense after skipping over those parts.
> 
> Thanks for reading and please tell me what you think or point out any mistakes in the comments, I love feedback!
> 
> I also have twitter, @cheebwasabitch, and this story is reposted on wattpad under the same title and author name.

George smiled at Sapnaps joke, relishing in the laughter of the rest of his friends. His avatar on the screen jumped between treetops as he spoke to everyone. 

Dream, Bad, and Sapnap were all in the teamspeak, but only George and Sapnap were on the SMP at the same time. 

He misclicked with his finger and his character missed the jump, taking a heart of fall damage. George sighed and looked over at his chat, which was buzzing with people talking. It was entertaining to read some days, but also exhausting at other times. They were talking about how they missed Dream.

Me too, chat.

Dream had been silent on all accounts for the past few days. He hadn’t responded to any of Georges texts or calls, dms, tags, nothing. It was like he’d disappeared.

George ran past Sapnap in the game, ignoring the ninja-like avatar everyone weirdly simped over who was busy looking in a chest for something. A dinging noise echoed through the house, and at fist George thought it was someone joining the call, but then he realized it was his door bell. That was weird. 

He thought about ignoring it, but it was late at night, and he hadn’t expected anyone, so he thought he should maybe go see who it was. 

“Hey guys, someone just rang my doorbell, let me go see who it is really quick. I'll be back in a second, entertain my chat,” he said hurriedly before muting himself and standing up.

He kept his headphones around his neck, but he couldn’t hear anyone as he left his room and walked to the front door. 

He pulled it open to find a man he’d never seen before standing there. His hair was a dirty blonde, and it fell down in the way of bright green eyes twinkling with something between sadness and nervousness. He wore a bright green hoodie. He was attractive, but he looked so worn down his natural beauty blended in well. He was also tall, taller than George. He was leaning on the doorway like he would collapse without it.

“Can I help you?” He asked the man. The man ran a hand through his hair, messing it up. His hands were shaking, and he wasn’t doing anything to try and stop them. George wasn’t sure whether to call the police or bring him inside. He didn't want to be murdered, but it looked like the stranger needed help.

“I...I didn't know where else to go. I don't have anywhere to go,” the man pleaded. His green eyes were teary and his voice was weak, like he was afraid.

“I’m sorry, do I know you?” George asked. His voice was so familiar, so soothing, even while cracking painfully, spitting hurt-filled words.

“This was stupid. I’m an idiot,” He sounded like…

“Dream?” The man’s head shot up. It felt weird to call somebody Dream to their face, he wondered if he should have used Clay. But that would also be weird, he supposed.

“George…” Dream mumbled. His shaking hands reached out and George met them, knowing for sure this was his friend. His best friend. His arms wrapped around the bigger man as he hugged him, somewhat awkwardly at first and then with need. He’d wanted to do this forever. When he pulled away, Dream was crying, and George remembered the strangeness of the meeting.

“What...Why are you here? How did you even…”

“I got a plane ticket. I needed to see you, I had to-I had to…” he struggled to get the words out. George could tell his friend needed help right then, so he practically dragged him inside and shut the door. His phone started ringing in his pocket, and he knew it was Sapnap calling him to figure out what was going on. Speaking of sapnap…

“Why didn't you go to Sapnap? Or your mom? Why me? I mean, I live like thousands of miles away, it doesn't make sense-“

“It had to be you, George. I needed you, not anyone else.” George’s throat clenched and he swallowed uncomfortably. He was never one to love verbal confessions like that. Dream, on the other hand, ended every call with I love you. George...well he didn’t think those words were as easy to say. He did love Dream, he just showed it in other ways. Ways that were less obvious. He didn't know if it bothered Dream, him not saying it back, but he hoped not.

“You need to go back to your stream,” Dream said softly, standing in front of him, hunched weirdly, looking out of place in George’s home. Suddenly everything seemed messy and cluttered and imperfect. This wasn’t how they were supposed to meet, this wasn’t right. 

“I don’t care,” he answered plainly. Dream narrowed his teary eyes.

“Go,” he said harshly, finding an edge in his voice.

“But...fine. I’ll be back in one second.” He hesitated for another long moment before rushing back into his room. He pulled his headphones on and sat down at his desk in front of his computer. His chat was freaking out, and as he went back off mute all his friends started talking at once.

“Dude, where’d you go?” Sapnap yelled.

“Sorry, it just took longer than I expected! I have to go now!” he added. His chat erupted into awws.

“Sorry guys, I just have to deal with something, I’ll explain it better in another stream. Bye everyone!” He abruptly ended the stream, not even raiding anyone. In his ears Sapnap starts yelling, but George wasn’t listening. 

He left the call and tossed his headphones on the bed and pushed out of his door. Dream was still where George had left him. Standing in the middle of the room, one hand on the back of the couch. Their eyes met and George could tell he was calming down, but he still seemed upset. 

“You can sit down, you know.”


	2. I Like Your Face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream stays the night and wakes up the next morning, something happens that involves dream in nothing but a towel...

“I’m sorry,” Dream said softly.

His eyes were rimmed with red, his face pale and upset. He looked beat down.

“For what?” George responded. They were standing in his living room, hardly any space between them, but it was somehow too much space and not enough at the same time. 

“For disrupting your night like this. For making you deal with me. For ending your stream. For standing in your living room after having a panic attack on your porch and-“ his voice began to shake.

“Stop.”George interrupted. “Don’t apologize, I don't mind. In fact, I’m glad you disrupted my night.” He walked across the room so he was back in front of Dream.

“I don't know why you flew all the way here, but I’m glad you did, because now I’ve met you. I’ve seen your face.” He giggled, and Dream smiled a little.

“You like it?” Dream joked half heartedly. 

“Your face?''Dream didn’t respond. “Yes,” George said softly, jokingly. “I like your face,”. Dream smiled a little bit more, but didnt say anything. 

They stood in awkward silence for a while, long enough that George began to be embarrassed.

“I like your face too, Gogy. But you already knew that,” Dream says softly. 

He looked like he was trying to make it a joke, but it was clear he wasn’t able to joke like usual.

These jokes were fine on stream, when there was an ocean between them and everyone knew it was for fun. But here, standing alone in the dim lighting of his living room, where the mood was anything but lighthearted, it didn't seem the same. 

George was still caught up in his own head when he noticed Dream swaying dangerously in front of him. 

He reached out to support the blonde, but not fast enough to stop Dream from collapsing.

*********************************************

Dream woke up with a start, eyes flying open and hands tightening on the blanket over him. 

He focused on uncurling his white-knuckled fingers from the fabric as he shook off the nightmare. 

He was sweating, and he could smell himself. He needed a shower. 

He needed icy water to pour down his back and chase away his problems, even if it was only for a second. 

He glanced around him, at the quaint little home and how it all just screamed George. 

There was a thin blanket spread overtop of him as he lay on the couch of George’s living room. 

George. 

He was even better in person, soft pale skin and brown hair and that nervous laugh Dream had always seen on his streams all accentuated by the fragil realness of him. 

Some part of Dream had forgotten that Dream was a real person, and being with George helped him remember. He was not a faceless waste of space. He wasn’t unwanted, unneeded. 

He wasn’t so devastatingly, soul-crushingly alone.

He pushed the blankets off and realized he didn't know where the bathroom was. He walked across the small living room to the cute little kitchen, then turned back and quietly opened the door to what he assumed was George’s room. 

He saw the sleeping figure of his best friend, cuddled into his queen bed. He was tangled in the sheets and hugging a pillow to his chest. 

Dream ignored it and opened the door to the bathroom, he was sure it wasn’t the only bathroom in the house, but he wasn’t sure where any other ones were or if they would have a shower in them. 

He caught sight of himself in the bathroom mirror and turned to stare. 

His eyes looked dead, the usually vibrant green pale and distant, just like him. His cheeks looked hollow, the result of a stomach that had been close to empty for nearly three days now.

He sighed and looked away. The shower would help.

After what felt like minutes of confusion he figured out how the shower handle worked, turned it on, and stepped inside, letting his clothes fall to the floor outside the glass door. 

He took his time, just letting the water hit his face and head, letting it run down his chest and legs as he tried not to think about anything at all. He finally washed himself, smelling George’s shampoo and feeling wrong using it, before shutting off the water. 

He wrapped a towel around his waist and picked up the rest of his clothes. Then he quietly opened the door, praying George would still be asleep. 

Instead he found the teen sitting in bed on his phone, an anxious look on his face as he watched the screen.

“Oh, uh, hey George,” Dream said softly. “Good morning,”

George’s eyes snapped up from his phone to meet Dreams. Then they drifted down slowly, taking in his half naked body. 

Dream would’ve pointed out the brunette excruciatingly obviously checking him out, but he didn’t have time. 

George’s eyes widened in surprise, he practically leaped out of the bed. 

“Dream!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let’s all collectively promise to overlook the fact that this isn’t how fainting works, it’s for the story guys.


	3. Bruised, Inside and Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream confides in George, telling him about his past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: there are mentions of assault and physical abuse in this chapter, please skip it if it makes you uncomfortable.

Bruises covered his abdomen.

Dark black and blue and faint lines of green splotched across his stomach, which was remarkably taut and musceled, much more than George’s, he thought self consciously.

The bruises were scattered, like he’d been hit somewhere different every time.

As if that wasn’t already enough, there were remnants of blood, never cleaned up from the tiny cuts that George didn’t even see.

Dream!” He exclaimed running over. He reached out without thinking, to touch the bruises, he didn't know why.

Dream flinched.

No, he didn't just flinch, that word was too soft. He cowered. He shrunk away, shielding his stomach with his hand and lifting his shoulder, like he really thought he was about to be attacked.

“I-I’m sorry...Who did this?” George said, backing off to give the blonde some space.

“George…” Dream said huskily, looking ashamed.

“Tell me right now, Dream.” He growled, anger coursing through his veins, anger at whoever had hurt his best friend.

“I don’t want to tell you yet,” Dream admitted.

“Why? You don’t trust me?” George said, trying not to sound as offended as he was.

“It's not your fault, Georgie, I just...I’m having trouble trusting anyone right now. I need some time, maybe some food, please.” He wouldn’t look at George's eyes.

“Dream-“

“No, George!” He snapped. It he brunette halted in shock.

Dream had yelled at him before, obviously, but it was different in person, different when you could see his face. He looked far angrier then George liked.

However, the Brit understood. He was hurting, and George was being pushy. He didn't like how Dream had yelled, but he could let it go, this once.

Dream’s green eyes were downcast, looking anywhere but at George.

He stood nearly a foot taller and yet he looked so small in that moment, so scared and so alone.

George wanted to hug him, wanted to do so many things, but instead, he nodded. And he backed off. He took a few deep breaths and started over, like he’d never seen the bruises. It appeared Dream was alright with that.

“Well, I’m glad you’re awake. I was so worried last night, Dream, you collapsed and I didn’t- I didnt know what to do-“ he started, but the blonde cut him off.

“I’m sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. And sorry about using the shower without asking, I just didn't want to wake you,” he explained. Dream smiled a little, but George was unable to reciprocate.

“I’m just happy you’re alright, and you can make yourself at home, what mine is yours and all that.” He managed to whisper softly.

He glanced down at the clothes in Dream’s hand, eyes flitting to the bruises and then away. “I can wash those for you if you want, and give you something clean,” Dream nodded, happy to change.

An hour later the two of them were in the kitchen. George was making eggs for them both. Dream was back in his familiar green hoodie, now washed and clean,

“So...I think we should talk,” George said simply. Dream nodded, agreeing.

“Maybe later, I don't really feel like doing it right now,” he said softly. George shook his head.

“Dream, please. At least tell me who did this,” He asked.

Dream was silent, so George continued. “Fine, you don’t have to tell me anything but please, please, at least let me help you.”

“Okay,” Dream muttered after an unbearable silence, and next thing they knew Dream was spread out across the sofa, his legs hanging off the end like they had overnight.

His shirt was pushed up around his shoulders, revealing his stomach and all the bruising.

George was gently dabbing away the blood with a cloth, and on the larger of the purple marks rested an ice pack, wrapped in a towel, trying to reduce the swelling.

As the blood was cleaned off the cut was revealed. It was more of a scrape really, like a ring would do, and had just nicked the skin, making it look worse than it was.

Dream had taken two Advil’s for the pain, but he still flinched every time there was contact.

“I feel like I’m hurting you,” George said openly as Dream sucked in a sharp breath as George’s fingers softly traced over the bruises.

“What? No, it doesn't hurt,” Dream said lazily, eyes closed.

“But you’re flinching…”

“I can't control the flinching, but if I could I wouldn’t be. It’s nice, actually?” He said, almost a question.

“The ice pack? George asked obliviously.

“No, dummy. You, your touch.” He said softly. His eyes fluttered slightly as he raised his head to look at George, crouching beside him.

“Oh, George said flatly.

His hands had barely touched the blonde's skin, nervous of making him uncomfortable.

Dream’s words made him more comfortable, so he let his free hand softly rest on dreams stomach.

“It was my stepdad,” Dream said suddenly, almost to himself.

George stilled, nervous. His heart was pounding in his throat.

“He found something out-something I didn't want him, or anyone, really, to know. And he got mad. He’d been drinking, and he was angry. He didn't know what he was doing.”

“Are you-Are you seriously defending him right now?” George said angrily, disturbed by Dreams words. “Dream, he hit you, that’s assault, and it's just awful,”

“I dont know.” Dream said back quietly. He didn't seem to like George’s response, so George calmed himself.

He understood what was going on, finally, understood why Dream was so detached from everything. It hurt him, clearly, to think about it, so he didnt think about it.

“What was it that he found out about?” George asked curiously.

“I might be...not entirely straight,” realization hit George like a brick.

“You’re gay? God, I should have known sooner…” George said in surprise. This was news to him, and last he’d thought about it Dream had been entirely straight. He’d had girlfriends.

“I’m not! Or well, I’m not sure, but I like girls too. What's it called again? Bi.” He said at last. George nodded, not surprised. “But anyway, I wasn’t, you know, acting on it, but I've known for a while. I just never announced it. And then...I did act on it, and...”

George understood. He’d come out a maybe a year or so ago, just to close friends and family, not to his fans, and then just a few months ago, come out to his fans. The reaction hadn’t been the most pleasant, but he’d handled it.

“It’s not something I’m proud of,” Dream muttered guiltily, causing George to wince visibly.

“It should be, Dream. It’s part of who you are,” he said softly, but Dream groaned.

“No, no, I can’t be. Not now, not after this. He called me a F*gg*t and all sorts of slurs. He told me to leave, and not to come back until I was straight. I said no, obviously I said no. It was my moms house, I wasn’t going anywhere. But he...he started to beat me.” Tears were forming in his eyes and George hated it.

“He kept saying he’d kill me if I didn't run.” The silver droplets began to spill from dreams glowing green eyes. 

He was holding George’s gaze, labored and ragged breaths shaking his chest under George’s hands. “He said he’d kill me, George.'' George felt a tear slide down his cheek and he grabbed onto Dreams hand. He couldn’t find words. “He said he’d hurt my sister if I came back. I can’t let him hurt her. I fled, George. I didn't even try to fight back. I just ran. And I didn’t...I didn’t know where to go, so I came here.” It was a lot to process.

“God, Dream, that’s terrible. But I’m glad you told me. We’re gonna figure this out, okay? I’m here for you, I always will be.” there was a long pause before George said what he’d been thinking this whole time.

“Is the reason you came here, came to me, is it because im gay?”

He had to know.

He had to know whether Dream was on his couch because he was George, or if he was the equivalent to Eret or anyone else.

“No, I came here because you’re George. You’re my George and you’re who I go to when I need help.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well...that was intense. I love you all and if you’ve ever experienced anything like this or can relate in any way please reach out to somebody!


	4. Sapnap, UK Netflix and Gordon Ramsay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George and Dream spend more time together, Dream gets a phone call from a friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I told myself I was going to wait till Sunday to post this but...didn’t happen.

_My George_

It echoed in his head, piercing his heart in a bittersweet pinch.

He swallowed, suddenly becoming aware of the warm roughness of Dream’s palm on his own.

“We should watch a movie. Or start a show together, how about that?” Dream said suddenly.

That caught George off guard. Clearly Dream had decided he was done with sharing. George respected it, he’d told the brunette a lot more then George had been expecting, and he definitely deserved to lie on the couch and relax after the hell he’d been through.

“Okay,” George said softly.

He grabbed the remote form the coffee table beside the couch and clicked on the TV.

Dream’s hand tightened around George’s and he shifted with barely a grunt of pain, tucking in his legs so that the brunette could sit properly.

George smiled, plopping himself down beside Dream on the couch.

Dream dropped his legs painfully back down across George’s lap.

He let out a soft grunt as Dream did so, and the green eyed man laughed.

Rolling his eyes, George playfully threw the remote at him, but Dream grabbed it after it hit him in the shoulder and used it to pull up Netflix and begin to scroll through the different movies and shows.

He paused for a second on George’s continue-watching row, and the smaller boy stressed out, suddenly nervous that Dream would judge him, but Dream just smiled and continued going down the lists.

George let his eyes close, happy to just sit here with Dream, hands intertwined even though they were slightly too far apart and it was slightly uncomfortable for them both.

“UK Netflix sucks. I don’t know how you do this,” He announced. George couldn’t hold back his laugh at the American.

“You’re just jealous that we have better cooking shows,” he shot back.

“YOU DO NOT!” Dream wheezed. “That is the biggest lie I have ever heard, Gogy. Don’t disrespect Gordon Ramsay like that!” He huffed.

“Gordon Ramsay’s British, Dream.” George said through bouts of laughter. Dream kettle wheezed.

“No way… of course you watch cooking shows,” Dream laughed.

“I don't! That’s common knowledge! He has an accent!”

“Oh, come on now,” Dream said in defeat.

Dream clicked on a cooking show with a dumb grin on his face. It started playing and George let his head roll back to the cushion.

Netflix cooking shows were always terrible.

As soon as he relaxed, a wave of tiredness washed over him, desperately trying to keep his eyes closed.

He hadn’t slept much last night, too worried about Dream and too occupied with all the questions going on on twitter and tiktok asking about George and his strange behavior last night.

He knew he needed to address it, but it would have to wait.

There were more important things happening in his life, things that involved a tall blondie who was too strong to show how much pain he was in.

He felt another soft squeeze on his hand, and a smile grew on his face as he gently squeezed back.

*******************************************

George fell asleep instantly.

It was obvious he hadn’t gotten enough rest the night before, and it made Dream sick to his stomach knowing he was the reason why.

And it didn’t end there.

He was the one who’d made him cry.

Dream had seen George cry before, but never the way he did on the couch. The tears had dripped down in silence, nothing but pain bottled up in a shiny droplet.

There was no anger, or sadness, or any other emotion in his eyes, just his own twisted reflection in those gorgeous colorblind irises and the way George pressed his lips together as if to keep from saying something.

He’d gotten caught up in how good it felt to let out everything that had dragged him down, and now it was dragging George down too.

It was what he did.

He hurt people, he told them about his pain and it made them hurt just like him. He made two people hurt when he could have just been hurt alone. He didn't understand why it kept happening, didn't know how to stop it, only knew that it was suffocating and gut wrenching and he hated it.

Why did the universe deal him these cards? Why was he given the best friend anyone could ever ask for, but filled with so much pain inside that he couldn’t be the way George wanted him.

George healed him, sure, but was Dream sucking the happiness out of him in exchange for his own?

He was stressing the boy out by being here, that much was clear.

What kind of friend did what he’d done, put their friend through this? Not a very good one.

George deserved so much better.

If only George had turned him away, said it was too much. But his heart was good and pure and loving, and it scared Dream.

He was scared to be loved by George. If he got attached, he’d only get hurt. Dream didn't want him to get hurt.

That meant that he shouldn’t be holding his hand as they sat on the couch, each swaddled with blankets. He had to let go, but he couldn't make himself do it. He needed George, and he was too damn selfish to go without the British boy.

He got startled by his phone ringing.

Sapnaps face took up the screen as it buzzed in Dream’s free hand. He answered and put the phone to his ear, trying to be as quiet as he could.

“Nick?” He said. Sapnap snorted at the real name.

“Yeah. Look, I was just wondering if you’re okay. I feel like we haven’t talked in forever, and I’m worried about you.” He said. Sapnap seemed harsh when you didn’t know him, and he put up a tough guy front for the fans, but he was a huge softie.

“Aw, Sappynappy...But don’t worry man, I’m doing alright. I’m maybe not the best I’ve ever been, but I’ll be okay,” he said, finding himself unable to completely lie to his friend.

“Oh, ok, well, that makes me feel a bit better. You know you can always call me, I’m here for you.” Dream smiled, warmth flooding through him. Sapnap paused for a second before asking his next question.

“By the way, have you talked to George recently?”


	5. Two Boys That Are Definitely Not Straight Have A Pillow Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream finishes his conversation with Sapnap, George wakes up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter is really long y’all, it was an interesting process. Enjoy and comment what you think or parts you liked, it means so much!

Cold fingers rested in his warm hands, soft skin against rougher, slender and delicate fingers so effortlessly opposite of his. 

Why were the two of them so different? Was that why they were such good friends? 

But what about Sapnap? He and George were opposites, but he and Dream were similar, and they’d all gotten along together perfectly. 

His mind returned to Sapnap’s innocent question. 

_ Have you talked to George recently? _

“No, I haven’t since yesterday.” he said smoothly. “Why? What’s up?” He lied at last, grounding himself.

It wasn’t that he wanted to hide anything from Nick, he just didn't know how to tell him. 

Besides, Dream wasn’t going to have that conversation before he at least tried to get George to do it for him.

“Oh, he just ended the stream really abruptly last night, it was strange. I’ve been texting and calling him a ton but I can't reach him. Everyone’s going crazy online. I dunno, maybe you can give him a call, he’ll pick up for you,” Sapnap sounded genuinely concerned. 

Dream assured Nick he’d contact George, and after talking for a bit longer he hung up. 

He would remind George to call Sap back to put him at ease, and George needed to handle his fans, too. 

Dream knows George had a different relationship with streaming then Dream. 

For Dream, it was an escape, and it was wonderful. His fan’s love for him felt real, and he loved the whole of them like they were puppies or kittens. 

He loved that they loved him. 

For George though, streaming was fun, but it was no different then just playing Minecraft with his friends. He didn't need the fans, the attention. 

George stirred beside him and Dream frowned. He didn't want George to wake up yet.

The house was quiet and warm and Dream was comfortable. 

He opened up twitter to see what Sapnap had been talking about and was surprised by the buzz created. 

Fans were going crazy, even though it hadn’t even been a full 24 hours. 

#whoranggogysdoorbell was trending. He laughed to himself at the hashtag before switching over to his home feed.  He narrowed his eyes, curious, and found the clip from last night on YouTube. 

Georges pretty face lit up his screen as he said something about someone ringing his doorbell. He disappeared from the camera and was gone for at least five minutes, Dream skipped over it. 

Had it really taken that long? It didn't feel that way. 

George finally scampered back into the room and threw himself into his chair before a rushed apology and a hang up.

The clip ended. It was weird, the way that George seemed. 

Anxious, yes, but also...maybe, just a little bit giddy. Like maybe his best friend had showed up at his house? 

Or maybe Dream was imagining things, reaching for signs he wanted to see that weren’t even there. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time.

*******************************************

George finally woke up in the late afternoon.

Golden sunlight shone through the open windows, casting the living room in a warm yellow glow that turned everything to a hazy bronze. The room had completely changed, and Dream had changed too.

His always tanned skin seemed especially brown, his green eyes lit so much brighter than the night before. 

It seemed he was a creature of sunlight, of warmth and brightness. 

George groaned, shifting out of the uncomfortable upright position he’d fallen asleep in.

“That was an amazing nap,” he said, reaching for his phone from the table. Dream smiled, probably at his slightly deeper morning voice.

“Morning, Georgie. Actually, no, it's afternoon,” he corrected.

George noticed that Dream had dropped his hand, but he didn’t say anything.

“Shoot...Sap called me like, twenty times,” he grumbled, seeing all the notifications covering his phone’s screen. 

He switched it off silent so he would get the noise next time someone called him. 

Good old Sapnap, adorably clingy as ever.

Dream nodded. “Yeah, he called me asking if I’d talked to you recently. I said I hadn’t.” George wondered when that happened, but didn’t ask. 

He scrolled through a long chain of urgent texts, asking where he’d gone. There’d only been a few when he’d first woken up, and he really should have responded before falling asleep again. 

He sighed, then pulled off the blankets and stood. Dream followed suit, climbing to his feet, slightly unsteady. George stared at him nervously, mind flitting to the last time Dream seemed unstable. 

He let out a slow breath when the American didn’t collapse, then glanced at Dream nervously, worried the teen had noticed. If he had, he didn't say anything.

“We better get started on dinner,” George said. Dream glanced over with a surprised scoff. 

“No way. You’re calling Nick back, George.”

“I’ll call him back later,” George shrugged.

“When?” Dream asked pointedly, raising a brown eyebrow.

“Later!” George whined. He picked up a pillow that had fallen off the couch and tossed it back on carelessly, only for it to bounce weirdly and roll back to the floor. 

“George, what’s wrong? He’s your friend, and he’s worried about you,” Dream said, ignoring George’s struggle with the pillow.

“I know, and I feel terrible, it’s just…”He glanced up at Dream, who’d taken a few steps closer, head tilted down to meet George’s eyes. “I don’t like lying to him, or anyone.”

“Who said you had to lie?” Dream reached down to the floor and grabbed the pillow.

“Well, you told him you hadn’t seen me, so I assumed you wanted me to,” George said slowly. Dream smiled, somewhat mischievously, the only warning of what was to come.

“You can tell Sapnap whatever, George.”

He swung the pillow aggressively, whacking George in the side of the face.

“I just didn’t tell him in case you didn't want him to know,” Dream explained softly, even as he hit george.

George yelped in surprise as the pillow hit him. Soft fabric smushed against his cheek. 

He scrambled to grab a pillow of his own to fight back.

Dreams next blow whacked him across the stomach, light enough it didn't hurt, but with enough speed to spin him off balance. 

Dream chuckled, but George shut him up with a pillow to the face.

“Oh, you are so dead, Georgie,” Dream laughed, causing George to erupt with giggles as well. He swung the pillow again, but Dream ducked. 

Dream threw his pillow, catching George in the side. George leapt onto and over the couch, and then Dream followed. 

“Get back here!” 

“Hah! Take that!”

”Oh, you better run. I’m coming for you!”

”DREEAAMMMMM!!!”

Pillows rapidly became scattered all over the room, used for a second before being abandoned on the floor.

The living room looked like a war zone, fallen pillows lying dejected, lonely and unwanted until the touch of Dream reanimated them.

George knew how that felt.

His mom’s favorite lamp was soon lying on the floor, an innocent victim in the battle that was taking place. 

George stepped over it carelessly, too caught up in the adrenaline of the moment to care if it broke. 

“Give up, Dream!” George taunted, backing Dream into the back of the couch. “You have nowhere to go!” He laughed. 

Dream unsuspectingly backed into the couch and toppled over it. In his surprise, the blonde grabbed onto George’s sweater and pulled the smaller boy down with him. 

They landed in a tangled pile on the couch, then slid off onto the floor, the couch on the left and the coffee table on the right. 

Now neither of them had anywhere to go.

Both were in fits of laughter, Dream kettle-wheezing and George holding his side to relieve the ache caused by laughing too hard.

“I won! I definitely won!” George said once he was able to speak again.

Dream’s hand was still clasped onto George’s sweater, and George’s arm had gotten trapped beneath Dream. Their legs were intertwined. Both trapping the other to prevent escape. 

“Aha! Too soon to celebrate, Gogy!” Dream cackled, grabbing a pillow from behind them and smothering George’s face with it. 

Blackness covered his vision, sounds drowned out as the pillow trapped him.

He felt Dream shift so he was above the brunette, holding both of George’s hands down with one hand and shoving the pillow in his face with the other. 

At last, Dream pulled the pillow away, letting George breathe. 

They were both laughing so hard, and with every bout George could feel Dream’s chest vibrate against his own, the two of them tangled the way they were.

George looked up into Dream’s victorious face, out of breath from laughing, eyes twinkling with humor.

A strange expression spread over Dream’s handsome face, but it vanished a moment after. All George knew was that he liked that expression, liked the smirk and the narrowed eyes. 

He liked the way Dreams fingers tightened ever so slightly on his sweater collar, knuckles brushing against the skin of his collarbone.

But then Dream glanced away, breaking the eye contact. George’s smile began to fade.

Had he done something wrong? Had he accidentally hurt Dream? He thought of the blonde’s bruises.

Dream untangled himself suddenly, clearing his throat uncomfortably as he separated them. George lay still on the ground, unable to do anything but watch as Dream rose.

His green eyes were darker and angry, though his expression was still soft. 

But then his face turned out of view as he stalked away, all humor lost, the light mood lost, nowhere to be seen. 

George lay on the floor in devastated silence, surrounded by used pillows all feeling equally abandoned.

It seemed Dream was starting on dinner, which George was happy about, but he wondered what had gone wrong.

It was almost like Dream hadn’t seen how flustered and happy George was in that moment. 

As if he hadn’t seen the questions in George’s eyes.

_ He’s making a mess of me, and he doesn't even know it. _


	6. I’m Not Clay Anymore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George calls Sapnap back. Dream gets angry at George.

“GEORGE DAVIDSON I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU EVER PULL THAT SHIT AGAIN I WILL COME TO YOUR HOUSE, MURDER YOU, THEN ROB YOU!” Nick yelled through the screen.

George laughed, not at all scared.

He’d finally called Sapnap back, after ignoring his calls for far too long.

George had stepped outside for privacy as he chatted with Sapnap, away from Dream in the kitchen.

“I’m sorry!” He laughed apologetically. Sapnap rolled his eyes.

“Dude, I thought someone literally killed you. So does everyone else, actually. You need to tweet, like, right now.” 

“It’s been barely a day!” George said in his own defense.

“You can’t just dissapear for a whole day after saying there’s somebody at your door really late at night! That’s so scary!” He seemed to be getting angry again. 

“Well, my friend needed help, I had to go.” George muttered truthfully.

“Who needs help that late? It was like 11!”

“Dream, apparently,” George blurted. Sapnap stilled.

“Are you serious?”

“Yes…”

No, there's no way. You’re fucking with me.” He assumed confidently.

“He’s here, Sap.” George spoke softly. 

“Where? I want proof,” he demanded. George sighed, opening the door slightly.

“The kitchen.” He flipped the camera so Sapnap could see Dream, standing with his back turned, doing something in the kitchen. He closed the door and sat back down on his porch steps.

When he looked at Sapnap, the Texan looked strangely sad.

“I don’t get it. Why didn't he tell me,” he mumbled, looking hurt.

“He didn’t tell me, either,” George said. “I don’t think he really planned to come here, he was in pretty bad shape when he showed up,”

“Then why did he go halfway across the world? He could’ve come here,”

“I...Nick, I really don’t know. You can ask him, maybe he’ll tell you, but he doesn't seem to want to tell me anything,” George said. Sapnap sighed.

“It’s whatever. I’m glad you guys are hanging out, though, that’s fun. What are you going to do?”

George wanted so desperately to tell Sapnap everything. He wanted to see if the Texan could understand Dream’s strange behavior better then he could, but he knew that Nick was struggling to keep a happy face as it was. 

Maybe George would be able to confide in him later, but today didn’t feel like the right time.

“I don't know,” He answered at last. Sapnap seemed to accept the bad answer, or maybe he didn't want to dwell on it.

“What should we tell the fans?” Sapnap said after thinking for a few seconds. 

George almost corrected his use of we, thinking about how Sapnap wasn’t really part of the situation, but stopped himself. 

He knew that would hurt his friend, there was no need. Instead he stayed silent.

“Post a picture of him and say ‘Dream showed up, but there’s only one bed…’ Make the shippers go wild,” Sapnap joked. George felt a blush rising in his cheeks as he rolled his eyes. 

“No way, I’d never recover.” He muttered. 

“You’re no fun. Fine, just do a picture with Dream’s hands in frame, everyone will recognize them somehow,” He scoffed.

“I’ll figure it out. Maybe I'll do a stream today or tomorrow, tell everyone, and I'll tweet something right now,” George said with a smile. 

Sapnap eventually hung up, looking slightly less dejected, and George quickly tweeted a short message to inform everyone that he was alive and well, thanking people for their concern.

He came back inside to watch proud looking Dream in the kitchen. The couch had been put back together, blankets folded over the back.

George smiled, looking at Dream, taking him in all over again. 

He stood tall and strong even though he had every right to look in pain. He had a smile on his face where tears should be. 

He was wearing a mask, and George hated it. 

George didn't care if Dream was broken and hurting, he didn't mind sharing his pain. 

Did Dream have any idea how much George loved him?

**************

George slid Dream’s hoodie over his head, mumbling a grateful yet awkward thanks to the American. 

Dream laughed at the way the hoodie fell almost all the way to George’s knees.

George felt bad, leaving the Floridan without anything, but George was cold and apparently, Dream wasn’t, even though that made no sense because George lived here and Dream lived in Florida.

“You’re such a simp, Dream,” he teased.

“Am not. I’m just a good friend,” Dream shot back, glancing away from George as they resumed walking. The night air was crisp around them, they were on a walk. 

“You totally are,”

“Well, you’re a baby,” he shot back.

“Maybe. I’m not a pissbaby though,” George laughed.

“I-Shut up!” Dream wheezed. George smiled wider. They passed through an alley, taking the shortcut home.

George was high off the energy of spending the day with his best friend, and like always, he stupidly took it too far.

He tugged at Dream’s hand, pulling it into his.

“What are you doing?” Dream asked nervously. George smiled, pulling a pen from his pocket.

“Oh no. What are you writing.” George carefully spelled out pissbaby on Dreams wrist, going all the way down so that the y ended on the palm. He curled the cursive y into a little heart.

“You’re so annoying, George,” Dream joked. “And you’re short,”

“Woah, I’m not short, you’re giant.” George blurted out. Dream snorted. The brunette immediately regretted his phrasing.

“Wait-“ he tried to say, but it was too late.

“You bet your ass I’m giant,” Dream smirked, winking at George.

“DREAM! No, I bet my ass you’re tiny,” George chuckled, though he didn’t believe it.

“What! No way-“ the blonde began to say something back, but George cut him off with a pouty face. 

“Aww, do you have a little bitty dick dweam?”

“Shut up!”

“Aww, poor _Clay_ ,” George said stupidly, drawing out the clay.

Dream's smile vanished. 

He spun around to face George, eyes burning green and angrier then George had ever seen them.

“Don’t call me that,” he snapped.

“What, tiny? I was just joking,” Dream shoved him backwards, slightly rougher then George thought was acceptable. He stumbled, back hitting the brick wall on the side of the ally.

“No, the other thing. _Clay_.” Dreams voice was low and threatening, the human equivalent of a wolf’s growls.

“Why not?” George asked innocently, pushing off from the wall and taking a step forward.

He didn’t know why he did it, why he felt the need to push Dream, test how angry the teen would be.

Maybe he was tired of never knowing what was going on.

Or maybe he like the way it felt to have Dreams eyes locked on his, angry as they were. 

He was met by Dream’s rough hand, pushing him backwards, softer this time but still aggressively.

Dream’s hand slid behind George’s head, taking the impact for George so his head didn't hit the bricks, a surprisingly thoughtful gesture that George was embarrassed to be flustered by. 

Dream’s large hand dropped down to rest at George’s neck, pushing him against the wall, holding him in place.

“Because I fucking said so, George. I’m not Clay anymore,” He threatened

“O-okay,” George stammered out. His heart was pounding.

Dream was pressed against George, intense green eyes locking against the brunette’s. The glare made George glance away. 

There were only two thoughts going through his mind. 

The first was expected.

_Dream doesn’t like being called Clay. I bet it’s got something to do with his stepdad._

The second wasn’t.

_Fuck, he’s hot when he’s angry._


	7. Panic Attack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys go shopping, then Dream has a rough night.

“How about this one?” George asked, holding up a hoodie for Dream to see. 

They’d been shopping for the past few hours, trying to get Dream a few more clothes and some basic necessities.

“Really, how hard was it for you to pack a bag before you left?” George muttered to himself as he glanced at the price tag.

“We don’t have to do this, you know,” Dream said suddenly, turning back to him. “I could get a flight back to Florida, I could get my things.” 

“Dream, we both know that you’re not going back there alone.” George said plainly. Dream smiled. He stepped closer to George, putting his hands on his shoulders. George breathed in heavily at the contact.

“What if I didn’t go back alone?” Dream said softly. 

George licked his lips subconsciously, trying to avoid answering. 

His eyes began drifting away from Dream’s green ones. He wouldn’t be able to say no to those glittering emeralds, and Dream knew it. 

His hand stretched out, finding it's way sharply to George’s jaw, gripping the smaller boy’s face rather tightly. He pulled upwards, tilting the brunettes head back so that their eyes met.

But instead of Dream’s usual puppy dog eyes, there was something different. Something needing. George felt it too, the tug at his heart that made him want to close the space between them. 

Dream was like a magnet, pulling George to him no matter how far apart they were.

He wanted to be close to the blonde at all times, to be touching him, holding him.

No, no, that was weird. Where had that thought come from? 

Dream was George’s best friend, and he was definitely not in a good enough place to be exploring anything with anyone.

Especially not a guy. He thought back to the boy’s words their first morning together.

_ “It’s not something I’m proud of.” _

What if he could teach Dream to be proud of it? Could he help him understand that his stepdad is the problem, and not him?

But then Dream stepped away from George, whatever expression had been present falling away, replaced, like always, with a stoic expression of heterosexualness, eyes blank and emotions gone. 

_ What are you so afraid of, Dream? _

Dream cleared his throat uncomfortably, pulling his hands off George like he’d never put them there, denying the moment that the brunette was beginning to think he imagined. 

“It doesn’t make sense to go to Florida, Dream.” George said, breaking the uncomfortable silence as they began to walk towards the checkout aisle.

The blonde was silent, letting George’s words fade out in silence. 

“Think about it. You only need a few things, you can get them all here. If you go back, you’ll just have to face...everything. I’m not sure you’re ready yet.” He said. 

“I could be ready if you came with me,” Dream asked again. George sighed. There was no way to convince Dream to do  _ anything  _ once his mind was set. It was insufferable. 

“Of course I’ll come with you if you need me, but I think we should at least wait a few more days,” George thought it was reasonable, but Dream looked hurt, like he’d taken it the wrong way. “Why do you want to go back so badly? And I mean the real reason, not the excuse about clothes.” He said at last. Dream’s head was tilted away, eyes downcast and in pain.

“I’m worried about them, George. I don’t think he’d hurt them, but what if something happened. I could never forgive myself if-if they-if he did something.” Dream sputtered at last.

There was wetness in Dream’s eyes now, unimaginable fear showing through.

George knew what he was talking about right away. 

He hadn’t forgotten about Dream’s mom and sisters, but he didn't know what they could do. They had no proof any of this had happened, nothing to show authorities. 

Going back to Florida might just provoke Dream’s stepdad, make him do something unpredictable. And he knew Dream wouldn’t be able to handle facing his stepdad, not after the way he’d reacted to George calling him Clay.

“We’ll figure this out, Dream. I’m here for you, and so is Sapnap and everyone else,” George had never been good at comforting people, but he knew he had to try. 

Dream nodded, but his eyes revealed that he didn't believe it. 

“I mean it.” This time it was George’s turn to reach out to the blonde. 

He pulled the much larger man to his chest, feeling Dream slump against him, a soft sniffle and shaky breathing the only signs he was crying. 

George didn’t know what he could do other than hug the American as close as he could and pray they’d find a way to make everything okay.

************

Dream had been staying at George’s for nearly three days. 

They’d gotten settled, both quickly becoming used to each other. 

They shared George’s bathroom, as it was the only one with a shower, and after two nights of having Dream on the couch George had begun to feel guilty, and now they switched off. 

Tonight, Dream was on the couch, and George was in his familiar bed that had begun to smell more like Dream then he’d expected it to. 

Not that he minded.

George snuggled deeper into the pile of blankets and pillows, eyes closed, so close to drifting off when a noise startled him.

“Dream?” He said softly, raising his head. His door was closed, so he couldn't see.

_ He probably just knocked something over in his sleep. _

George tried to go to sleep, but something didn’t sit right with him anymore, and he couldn't get comfortable. 

He slipped out of bed, taking a deep breath when the cold air hit his skin, and slunk over to the door. He opened it, expecting Dream to be lying down, but instead the teen was up. 

His eyes were wide, even in the dark, and he was wheezing for breath. His hand clutched the back of the couch, fingernails digging into the fabric.

George froze, unsure what to do.

Dream dropped himself back onto the couch, head in his hands, struggling for air, soft whimpering wheezes the only sound he made. 

A cup of water and a pile of books were lying abandoned on the floor, water spilling over the pages. Dream didn’t seem to notice, or if he did he didn’t do anything to fix it.

George wanted to go out and help, but his feet were frozen to the floor.

“Dream?” He called. His voice sounded weak, exactly as he felt. Dream didn’t respond, just continued gasping for air like he was drowning, hands shaking and breathing hitched. 

George waited for a second longer, still debating whether the blonde needed him or not.

He looked like a window pane that had been hit with a rock cracking and splintering until at last it shattered into nothing.

How long before Dream shattered? 

He knew Dream didn’t like for people to see him weak. He knew Dream would be uncomfortable knowing George had seen this. 

So George waited quietly as Dream pulled his phone from his pocket with shaky hands. 

He dialed a number, and George had a feeling he knew who it would be. 

“Hey, Nick. Can we talk?” Dream said softly into the phone. A pang of hurt pierced George.

_ Why didn’t you come to me, Dream? _

His voice was raspy and strange as he talked to Sapnap. George felt strange listening, but even once he closed the door and went back to bed he could hear snippets of their conversation.

_ “A panic attack…” _

_ “Yeah, at George’s…” _

_ “No, I don't think he heard…” _

_ “Yup, talk to you tomorrow…” _

George unplugged his phone from the charger and typed ‘panic attack’ into safari.

_ A panic attack is a sudden episode of intense fear that triggers severe physical reactions when there is no real danger or apparent cause. Panic attacks can be very frightening. When panic attacks occur, you might think you're losing control, having a heart attack or even dying. _

Guilt tore through him.

_ Dying. _

And he’d done nothing.


	8. Just A Hug

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George and Dream make an announcement via Twitter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I HAD TO ADD SHREK INTO THE STORY AFTER THE COMMENT SECTION I AM SO SORRY EVERYONE. 
> 
> But seriously I rewatched the end of the movie for this AND I edited the tags.
> 
> Enjoy!

_“But you ARE beautiful.”_

_“I was hoping this would be a happy ending”_

“Aww.” Dream said as the movie finished, ‘I’m a believer’ starting to blast out of the speakers for the end credits. George sniffled slightly, hoping the blonde wouldn’t notice, but it was too late.

“Are you CRYING?” He shouted.

“No,” George lied, shaking his head and wiping at his face.

“YOU’RE CRYING AT AN ANIMATED MOVIE! YOU'RE CRYING AT SHREK! IT’S LITERALLY SHREK!”

“It was a cute ending.” George whined in protest.

“Oh, I’m telling Sapnap you cried at the end of Shrek. I’m telling everyone!” Dream wheezed.

“Don’t you dare!” George yelled, all sadness vanishing from his heart at the threat.

“It’s the perfect way to tell the fans we’re together!” Dream cried out, raising his phone and taking a blurry photo of George’s teary eyes. 

George threw a pillow at him halfheartedly, but it fell short. 

Dream snickered at him and kicked the blanket off his legs, purposefully pushing it into George’s face.

“We do need to tell them though,” Dream continued, And George had to admit he was right. 

“I agree, but not like...that. We could do a stream,” George proposed, slightly muffled by the thick blanket smothering him that he was too lazy to even pull off.

“Weren’t you going to stream tomorrow, though?” The blonde asked.

“Oh yeah. You could stream it. Or we could just wait till tomorrow.” George offered, escaping from the blanket and wondering briefly if this was about to be another pillow fight. 

Dream shrugged, seeming open to any of the ideas. 

“What if we just tweeted something? You could cover your face. Or keep your head out of it.” George said. Dream smiled at that, mischievous creativity lighting up his tan face. 

“I have an idea, hold on.” He jumped up from the couch with a surprising amount of energy and dug around in the pile of clothing that he’d bought from the store. He eventually pulled out his green hoodie, with the black smiley face on it. 

He tossed it at George. “Put this on.” George obliged, pulling it over his head and milking in it’s sweet scent. It smelled like Dream, the same way his bedsheets did. He hoped Dream hadn’t noticed him smelling it as he climbed to his feet.

The sleeves fell to his fingertips and it was long enough to be a dress.

Dream wasn’t _that_ much bigger than him, was he?

“You know, I have my own merch. And I have _your_ merch.” He muttered, but Dream shook his head, either too excited to waste time on George walking twenty feet to his bedroom or purposefully dressing George in his hoodie for a reason. 

A nervous pit formed in his stomach at the unlikely yet nauseating idea that maybe Dream wanted George to wear his hoodie at least a fraction of the amount that GEroge himself wanted to. 

It was a terrifying thought, but terrifying in a good way, like when you reach the top of a rollercoaster and you’re about to plummet down, and you know it's going to be scary, amazing, or a mix of both, but you can't quite tell which yet. 

His relationship with Dream was like an invisible rollercoaster, twisting and flipping every which way with no warning, threatening to give George the best fun of his life or steal everything from him.

The blonde had set up his phone on the coffee table and angled it well, pressing the timer on a burst of photos. 

“Get over here, Georgie,” He grabbed George by the arm and roughly pulled him into the view of the lens.

George stood fully in frame, from his waist up, hoodie on full display, and felt Dream come up behind him, looping his arms around George’s shoulders carelessly and resting his chin on the crown of George’s head. 

_Oh._

He liked it more the he wanted to.

It was just a hug. A very possessive hug.

But Dream was like that; he liked to hug, and to flirt, and to tell people he loved them. He was very open with affection, and it was one of George's favorite things about the gamer. 

It was just annoying that George blushed every time. 

Like on cue, the brunette’s cheeks flushed red, and he was glad when the burst ended and Dream pulled away with almost no hesitation. 

Disappointment threatened to smother his relief, and he straightened his shoulders, taking control of his body back from Dream, stiffening himself so he was no longer half melted. 

He’d be lying if he said his reaction to the hug was in any way purposeful, or controllable, but that didn’t make him any less embarrassed. 

The blonde picked up the photos and scrolled through them before tilting the phone screen so George could see. The pair looked good in the soft lighting, with matching loopy grins that you could easily tell weren’t forced. George’s hair was messy, but it was hard to tell because of the way it was covered by Dream’s chin. 

The American carefully cropped the photo he’d selected so that only the very bottom of his mouth could be seen, hardly even letting his lips be in frame. Then he pulled up Twitter.

“You okay with this?” He asked as he imported the picture, to which George nodded happily. It was a cute photo, and despite the fact that it made them look like a couple, he didn’t see any flaws. 

Dream typed out a caption and hit send. 

George giggled, flopping back down on the couch and pulling out his own phone. He was still wearing Dream’s hoodie, but he didn’t feel like giving it back yet. 

Or ever.

*************************

George slid his mouse slightly to the left and clicked the start stream button with his middle finger.

He knew he’d have a lot of viewers today, especially after the reaction he’d gotten from the simple tweet Dream had shared. 

He’d responded to it with a picture of just Dream’s shoes, saying “Is that why these ugly things are in my house??” The fans had seemed to like it. 

Their favorite thing was dnf jokes, and their second favorite was making fun of Dream’s shoes, ever since the Mr. Beast video came out. 

He watched in entertained silence as his viewer count skyrocketed, going from zero to thousands in less than a minute. He let viewers continue to join while taking a second to check his setup. A knock on his door startled him, having forgotten that anyone was home. 

George had texted Dream that he was going to start a stream so the blonde wouldn’t do exactly what he was doing now, but thankfully George was still muted. He’d have to tell Dream to be more careful not to walk into his room while his camera was on.

“Come in,” he called, double checking he was still muted to his chat. He was sure Dream wouldn’t have cared about his voice being in it, but George figured that should be up to him, not George.

The door pushed open, revealing a tired looking Dream. Maybe he’d been napping, it would explain the strange silence of the house for the previous hour. 

The blonde stepped inside, then began to look around the room for something. 

“I left my phone in here when you were showing me around this morning, sorry,” Dream apologized as he spotted his phone. He grabbed it off the armchair that sat to George’s right, off screen to the camera. He glanced down on it as he headed out, seeing both George’s text and the twitch notification.

“Wait, you’re streaming?” He said in surprise, suddenly awake. His eyes darted to the screen, then saw with relief that George hadn’t turned on his camera yet.

“It’s fine, I haven’t really started yet,” George assured him. 

Dream stayed still awkwardly, like he was waiting for something. 

His eyes were questioning, maybe a little desperate, a look George had started to see a lot and wasn’t sure whether he liked. It wasn’t fair how much power those puppy-dog eyes had over him. 

At last he asked a question, not sure whether it was the right one or not.

“Are you...Do you want to stay?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cringe shrek puns in the next chapter?? Pog??? :0
> 
> Jk the next chapter already has enough bad jokes I don’t want to make u guys hate me too much.


	9. Shut Up, Snapmap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George streams with his friends. What could possibly go wrong?

“Hello! Hi! I’m getting set up really quick, hold on everyone.” George announced happily, unmuting himself and turning on his camera at the same time.

He did a quick intro, saying he would be having some fun on the SMP with his friends and answering some questions, then switching to Jackbox with Karl, Quackity, and a few other people. 

Dream was seated in the armchair, just barely off screen, able to see the whole setup but instead on tiktok. 

His chat was crazy, asking about Dream, the tweet, the photo, quoting heatwaves and making all sorts of dumb jokes and comments. He read one about where Dream was out loud.

“Dream is actually sitting in here with me. Dream, wanna say hi?” He said, then turned up his volume a bit so they could hear him better. 

“Hi everyone!” Dream called, waving even though they couldn’t see him, glancing up from his phone and towards the monitor. 

The chat erupted, not truly believing it could be real,, and both George and Dream giggled. 

George had to agree with the flashing comments; it seemed too good to be true.

But it was true. And his mistake was believing that it could be true.

Everyone forgets that stories start out happy, then shit hits the fan. Then it's up to the author to decide whether everyone gets put back together again. 

A soft ping reminded him of where he was and signified someone entering the call. Sapnap. 

“Hi Sapnap!” George called out. Sapnap gutterally screamed into his microphone, causing George to wince. 

Well, at least someone was acting normal today.

“How are my two favorite love-birds doing?” Sapnap asked after his loud entrance, knowing that Dream was in the room.

“Shut up, Snapmap” George laughed. 

He felt a blush rise in his cheeks, and he was glad that Dream couldn’t hear anyone but him. 

“Put Dream on, I wanna talk to my buddy,”

“No,” George said curtly. “You can text him,” It wasn’t that he had a problem with it-he just didn't want to give Sapnap what he wanted after he’d teased him.

Sapnap made a whiny sound that was something like the verbal expression of pouting.

George laughed, eyes darting to a donation popping up in his face.

_Did Sapnap know you were meeting up?_

George hesitated, thinking maybe he could pretend he’d missed it, but then he remembered Sapnap was watching his stream.

“He did not know. I didn’t know either, actually. Dream just kind of...did it,” He said.

It started raining in the game, and he excitedly switched to his trident to fly through the sky, something he could only do with water.

“Are you talking about me?” Dream asked softly, low enough that the mic probably didn’t pick it up.

George glanced over to the side at Dream and nodded. Dream smiled a little, turning back to his phone after the acknowledgement. 

George watched for a second longer, gaze trapped on broad shoulders and cheeky grins, the smell of beaches and ocean mixed with messy blonde hair and bright green eyes. 

Everything that made Dream so perfect, so unique. These things about him that George had never known, not till he met him in person. 

He didn’t think he could ever return to what they'd once had after knowing they could have this.

“So what have you guys been doing?” Sapnap asked, causing George to jerk his head back to the screen, so hard his neck cracked. 

He took in Nick’s words, hoping he was the only one that picked up on the jealous undertones.

“Um, nothing really yet. We went shopping a few times together, gone on some walks, but we’ve mostly stayed in,” He said. His mind flashed to the walk, where Dream had gotten angry. He glanced over at Dream, but the blonde wasn’t paying attention at all. 

A dinging notification on discord brought his attention back to his computer, and he glanced over to look at it. 

Dream: Stop looking at me dummy

Dream: pay attention to ur stream

George struggled not to make a face at the texts. So he had been paying attention.

George: I can't help it

George: Ur really distracting

Dream: I can leave

George: no

George: stay

Dream didn’t respond, but he made no motions to leave, and George quickly finished up the chat’s questions and told a few stories about Dream and the other members of the SMP. Eventually Bad and Karl were in the VC too.

They switched over to JackBox after about 45 minutes, and George managed to convince Dream to join in on his phone. 

Then he pulled off his headphones so that Dream could hear the others and the others could hear him.

The viewers piled into the game’s audience and watched as they started a game of quiplash.

_On your wedding night, it would be horrible to find out the person you married is ___

**_Gogy_ **

_Or_

**_Sapnap_ **

George smiled at the similar thought processes before clicking on Sapnap. The votes were shown and the next round started and passed in a familiar and comfortable blur of this game they’d all played so many times.

_The first thing you would do after winning the lottery_

**_Donate it all to George_ **

_Or_

**_Subscribe to Technoblade_ **

“Yeah, donate it all to me,” George laughed.

“Well we know which one was Dream’s. What a simp,” Quackity shouted, to which they all laughed. 

“Yeah Dream, stop being such a simp,” they all burst out laughing as they were proved right in their guess.

George felt a slight discomfort in his stomach at the way these prompts were heading. This could get awkward soon, and he was scared of it.

_The best news you could get today_

**_Dream and George are dating_ **

_Or_

**_Heatwaves update_ **

“Oh, well in that case, we have something to tell everyone,” Dream joked, ignoring or perhaps not noticing George’s intense gay panic.

They had always joked and flirted like this. But it was different because they were together. It was different because with every joke Dream and George had to actively avoid looking at each other because they were both definitely blushing.

And it didn’t end there. 

_What’s the one place a finger shouldn’t go?_

**_George’s butthole_ **

_Or_

**_A butt_ **

“You guys are _sooooo_ creative,” George groaned, rolling his eyes at the bad options and choosing not to vote.

“Well, unless it’s _Dream’s_ finger, then-“ Sapnap started, laughing so hard he hardly made sense.

“Shut up!” George and Dream said at the same time, cutting Sapnap off. Sapnap laughed at them. 

“Okay, new game!” George announced, pretending none of that had happened, thankful that it was over-it had to be over.

“Hold on, hold on, I have one thing to say,” Sapnap laughed, and George immediately knew it was going to be bad. He didn't expect what actually happened to happen, though. 

Music started blasting from Sapnap’s mic. 

_“SOMETIMES ALL I THINK ABOUT IS YOU_

_LATE NIGHTS IN THE MIDDLE OF JUNE_

_HEATWAVES BEEN FAKIN ME OUT_

_CAN’T MAKE YOU-“_

Sapnap even joined into the song, singing for a moment before stopping it. The whole call was dying of laughter, even George and Dream.

“I hate all of you,” George muttered as they all calmed down.

Dream wheezed, pointing to the chat that was spamming ‘kiss’ while staying out of frame.

George rolled his eyes at Dream as the American’s laugh turned into everyone’s favorite thing, a kettle wheeze, and then he began rolling backwards and then becoming unbalanced and falling out of his chair. 

George tore his eyes away and resumed watching the chat when one specific comment caught his eye.

_No._

It couldn’t be.

His smile dropped, chills creeping up his back to replace his lighthearted mood. 

Maybe he’d imagined it. Maybe it was a trick of his eye, a figment of his nightmares reflected in the flashing letters and numbers whizzing past his face.

But even as he tried to convince himself so, he knew he hadn’t imagined it. 

It was there, whether or not he wanted it to be. The whole world could find that comment.

What if they did? 

“Uhh, I’ve been streaming forever, I think I’m going to finish up,” He said, unable to make his voice sound less distracted as he stared blatantly at the chat. He then deafened himself on the call despite the fact they were all trying to talk to him.

He realized it was his second stream in a row ending like this, but he didn’t care. This was so much more important.

He ended the stream with a click of his finger, knowing people wouldn’t like it but not able to find the strength to put on a mask. 

He didn’t raid anyone or say a proper goodbye to chat, just began to hastily scroll back up through the chat to find what he was looking for. 

Dream beside him seemed to realize something in the chat had spooked him, and turned to see what George was looking for, then back at George, seeming to want to say something but instead choosing silence.

They were both good at reading each other, George’s energy had changed and Dream definitely had noticed.

But then why didn’t he say anything? Or maybe he was speaking but the pounding in George’s ears was drowning him out. 

Geoge found the message with shaky fingers, letting it mark the screen like a hateful branding, forever burned onto the pixels. 

_“You’re a sin and a f*g, Dream. And don’t you fucking forget it or you know what will happen”_

Dream turned his head so he could read the comment and George quickly scrolled away, pretending he was still looking for it. 

Dream’s panic attack was still fresh in both their minds. He didn’t need to see this- it would only make everything worse.

_I’m sorry, Dream, but it's time for me to get involved._


	10. I Love You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream finds himself overthinking a short conversation with George.

“What is it?” No response. “George? What did you see?”

“Oh, uh, nothing,” The brunette responded at last, but it was a hasty and obvious lie. 

“Stop lying to me, George. I know somethings wrong.” Did he think he was stupid or blind? Maybe both.

“Well, fine. I saw a message in chat,” George said plainly, seemingly happy to leave it at that.

He clearly doesn’t want to talk about it.

“What kind of message?” Dream continued, already sure what the answer would be. He didn’t want to make George talk if he really didn’t want to, but he also knew his friend, and he knew that George would bottle up his feelings unless Dream could convince him not to.

“A...bad one. Just normal hate stuff, okay. There’s always going to be haters.” George looked sad as he closed the browser, turning to Dream with a slightly dejected expression. Dream hated it.

“Yeah, but they still get to you. Are you okay? What did it say?” He asked. 

George had tended to get a lot of hate recently, for some reason that Dream didn’t know. 

Well, maybe he did. George’s inboxes had been filled with homophobia. It had been a hard thing for him to deal with, and Dream regretfully knew that he had not been there for his friend. 

But it was hard for him. Even months ago he was feeling the pressure from his stepfather, feeling this new emotion that was so complicated. 

It was like his mind was at war with itself. He loved his friend, but did that mean he loved his choices? 

He wanted to, he really did. And he managed to find a way to support his friend, and even after everything he still did. But he could never follow his example.

That was the past, and he didn’t want to think about it. 

He’d caused George pain, even though he hadn’t meant to and even though George didn’t fully understand it. 

But it had changed them both, more the brunette then him.

He could see it the way George became more reserved during streams, less face-cams, not posting or being live as often. 

He scarcely talked to Dream for almost three weeks because of it, and even when their issues were resolved George was different. 

It hurt Dream to watch, but there was nothing he could do but watch.

“What were they saying?” He repeated.

“Oh, just stuff about...me.”George mumbled, turning off all his monitors. Dream pressed further, wanting to know.

“Like what?” Was he going to have to check for himself? Though he was sure the mods would have deleted anything truly bad, right? 

“You know what. The same stuff as always,” To Dream, that was a ‘No, I don’t want to tell you.’

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

This was his fault. 

It always was.

Fuck.

It was final; Dream needed to leave George alone.

“Oh. Well I think you’re very attractive, George. And very good at minecraft. And a wonderful person who should never ever stop streaming or think that any hater is right ever,” He gushed, unsure what to say. A small smile spread on George’s gorgeous face. No, that was a sad smile. That was a ‘you addressed everything but what I wanted you to address smile’ 

“And I support your choices, always, and so do your followers. So don’t worry about the one percent that decides to talk about what they don’t understand and have nothing of value to say about and-“

“I love you, Dream.”

His mouth slammed shut. He hadn’t heard that since… he hadn’t heard it since George came out. 

And that felt like forever ago.

He wanted to hug the brunette. Would that be okay? They’d hugged for the photo. But that was a photo.

He glanced at George, hesitating and unsure. 

But then George made the decision for him, arms encircled his sides, George pulling himself practically into Dreams lap.

Oh.

How’d you know, George? How do you always know?

He shifted the Brit to a more comfortable position, George’s face curled into his chest, hands wrapped around his neck. His hair tickled Dreams chin, reminding the blonde to shave. 

A shuddery gasp shook against him, followed by a small whimper.

“Are you crying?” 

“No,” George sobbed.

Dream swallowed nervously. He could feel each thud of both of their hearts. 

His leg hurt from the way George was sitting, almost afraid to touch Dream.

George was trying to keep his weight off Dream's chest, clearly afraid to press on quickly healing bruises. 

Dream reached out, basically lifting the Brit so that he was on his lap, one leg on either side. Any pain was washed away by the bliss created by George.

George mumbled something into Dream's chest.

“What?” The blonde asked, looking for clarification.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He mumbled back.

“I’m being clingy.” George sniffled.

“Yeah, I didn’t know you were so...touchy.” He didn’t mean it in a bad way; in fact, he liked it, but he was surprised. 

George’s head tilted up, dark watery eyes rimmed with red meeting Dream’s.

Something twisted in Dream. Something sad, for sure, but something else too. 

“It’s my love language,” George mumbled apologetically. 

“It’s mine too,” Dream whispered as George set his head back down.

Or at least, it was when he was a kid, before everything fell apart. 

Before he learned to fear touch instead of crave it. 

_ How did you manage to reverse what I thought was irreversible?  _

_ How did you fix me? _

*******************************************

Dream’s phone buzzed, breaking him from his thoughts of yesterday, both pleasant and unpleasant. He let it ring out, staying motionless on the couch, staring up at the popcorn ceiling, unblinking green eyes seeing anything but an empty white wall.

_ “I love you, Dream,”  _

Had George meant it? Or had he felt obliged to say something? 

Did he mean it the way Dream did?

Dream had always loved George, in more than one way. 

He loved him as a friend, the same as Sapnap and everyone else, but he also loved him differently, in a more intense way, a more terrifying way, that threatened to make Dream head over heels obsessed with George. 

He  _ wanted _ to be obsessed, and perhaps that was proof that he already was, but he was afraid.

George was the sun, and Dream was doing everything in his power to avoid being Icarus.

For the amount of times Dream had told everyone he loved them, for all the flirting and the hugging, Dream was trying to get them to say it back. He needed the conformations, he needed to know that he wasn’t the only one who loved. 

He suddenly craved touch like he was an addict, and the further away George was from him the worse the withdrawal became. 

He’d spent all morning focused on accidental brushes of their hands, gentle movements they'd both noticed but not mentioned.

They were silent conformations of love, were they not?

It was so much easier than saying those three words that had always been reflex, except today they weren’t. 

They suddenly carried a lot more meaning. 

But then George had said it, on a whim, with no hesitation. 

The way Dream always used to.

No tricks from donations, completely unprompted, he’d  _ said it _ . In person, too. In person so that Dream could see his expression as he did it, and it looked like his least favorite type of George. 

Messy and hurt and vulnerable. Dream hated when others were vulnerable, it was almost as bad as when he was vulnerable. He hated to open up, even to somebody as special as George. Maybe it was harder because it  _ was _ George.

Why was everything so much harder to do when it was with George? 

The brunette was beside him now, watching tv somewhat intently. Dream wanted to grab him and pull him close, but he didn’t. 

Something stopped him. Maybe the knowledge that if he did he’d never be able to stop. 

He already relied on George for everything; he couldn’t force the Brit to be his only source of comfort.

Not till he was sure he could handle the possibility of rejection.

Not till he could handle the chance that he wouldn’t be rejected.

Dream loved George, he always had. 

But what if George loved him?


	11. How About Now?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George and Dream spend the next day together, showering and making lunch.

George had needed the cool sensation of water against his skin to wake him up after his and Dream’s lazy morning together. They'd spent most of it on the couch, binging shows and movies till their eyes started to hurt. 

Neither of them spoke of yesterday, skirting around the subject and talking as little as possible. 

Unfortunately, that didn’t mean George wasn’t thinking about it.

His mind had run unchecked, mulling over the comment again and again. His anxiety about it hadn’t been helped by the constant phone calls that Dream had received, even with his phone off and on do not disturb, they would appear, missed calls stacking up in his notification bar. 

He never answered, but he never blocked the number either. 

George had finally decided to take a shower, leaving Dream sprawled out on the couch, staring at the ceiling, as he had been for nearly fifteen minutes.

George would’ve paid to know what he’d been thinking about. 

He rubbed his scalp with shampoo, trying to focus on anything but the silent wailing in his heart.

All George had wanted to do this morning was crawl back into the safety of the blonde’s lap, curling up against him just like yesterday, but he hadn’t. 

Maybe he was a chicken.

Or maybe he was smart.

Dream had broken George. He’d ripped him apart and his feeble attempts to make everything better had only done the opposite.

He’d caused the brunette to distance himself from his family, friends, and fans. He’d caused an irreparable rift in George’s life. How could he forgive that if he didn’t see signs of change?

George was a crumpled love letter, so worn down that even once he’d been unfolded and smoothed out, he still held dark traces of his hardest days. The ink had been smeared, but not enough for him to be illegible. 

Not enough for his love to be erased.

He turned the knob even colder, letting the water turn icy, sending chills through his spine and forcing his mouth open in shock as it hit his chest.

The tears on his face were so starkly different then the water, running warm instead of cold.

If not even his closest friend accepted him, how could anyone else? 

  
  


*****************************************

  
  


Dream’s phone buzzed yet again, sending a spike of fear shooting through him.

“Who is that? They’ve called like thirty times!” George blurted, walking back into the living room and glancing at the vibrating phone. 

It was clear to Dream that he’d been holding back the question for some time, understandable, considering that his phone had been ringing straight all morning. 

“No one.” Dream shot back curtly.

“You’re not going to pick up?”

“No, I’m not. Do you wanna make mac and cheese?” He responded evenly, changing the subject.

And that was that. George and Dream spent the next fifteen minutes in the kitchen, boiling water, adding the pasta, pouring in the cheese packets, then eating two whole boxes in one sitting.

George plopped the dishes in the sink and began to fill it with warm water, adding a pump of soap. 

Dream came up behind him, resting his elbows on George’s shoulders and peering over his right shoulder at the sink.

“I-What’re you doing, Dream?” George asked, voice sounding slightly nervous. Good. Dream liked it like that, when it got all high pitched and flustered.

“Just watching,” he said smoothly.

“Well, you could help,” George said passive aggressively, but Dream knew he was joking. Still, he felt bad. He dropped his head so it balanced on top of Georges, then snaked his arms on either side of the Brit. 

George’s damp hair pressed against his chin, the soft smell of oaty shampoo enveloping him in its aroma.

The pose reminded Dream of the picture they’d taken, the only difference being the slightly larger gap between them and the absence of a camera.

And of course, the fact that Dream’s hands were around George’s stomach, instead of overtop of his shoulders. 

“Uh-“

“Shh.” Dream’s said, cutting him off as he grabbed a sponge and began to help George clean the pot.

“Uh, You know, this isn’t-it’s not really a two person job, Dream.” His voice was a stuttered whisper. “Why don’t you dry?” 

“Am I making you uncomfortable, George?” Dream asked softly. He didn’t want George to be uncomfortable, but he could tell the brunette wasn’t because of the way George’s breathing was heavy, anticipating. The way he was biting at his lips, thinking Dream couldn’t see. 

“What sort of question is that?” George said, trying desperately to avoid answering.

“A simple one. Yes or no.”

“Fine. Then no, you aren’t.” He said stubbornly yet shakenly. Dream smiled, a little bit mischievously, deciding he’d have fun with this. 

He took a half strep forwards, letting his waist press against George’s, letting them touch.

  
George sucked in a breath in through his teeth, accidentally dropping the spoon into the sink. George grabbed a towel and they both died off their hands. 

Dream’s entire front was pressed against George’s back, arms wrapped around to hold them together.

His heart was racing, pounding in his ears, drowning out the sound of both their heavy breathing. 

If George wasn’t uncomfortable before, he had to be now. But he was stubborn, and so was Dream.

“How bout now?” Dream asked after his reaction. He was as breathless as George, holding himself back from everything he wanted to do.

“No chance,” George laughed breathily, edging Dream on with a spurt of confidence Dream hadn’t expected. It was bold. Dream narrowed his eyes, almost offended. 

He reacted without thinking, something primal taking over, cutting whatever chains of restraint he had. Something competitive that had to push George to the edge. That had to see how far the brunette would let this go.

He could not stop himself at this point, and it scared him. He wanted to pull away, but found himself locked in George’s embrace as much as George was locked in his. 

He grabbed George’s face, yanking it and spinning the man around so they were facing each other. 

Then he swept his arms under George’s legs, forcefully lifting him up so that he was sitting on the edge of the sink. His legs were open, Dream filling the space between his knees. 

Dream’s hands had found their way to rest on each of the brunette’s thighs, and George’s were gripping onto Dream’s neck and shoulders, using him to balance on the thin bit of granite he was sitting on.

Their mouths were inches apart, the distance nothing but a promise waiting to be broken, or perhaps a promise to be made.

It didn’t truly matter, though, nothing mattered when he could feel George’s shaky breath flitting across his lips. 

“How bout now?” Dream asked again, admiring the way George’s adam’s apple bobbed nervously as he swallowed.

The pause felt like minutes, both of them frozen in time, scared to move either forwards or backwards for fear of ruining everything.

“No,” George replied at last, a breathless, husky whisper that made his words so obviously false, but if he wanted to pretend he wasn’t nervous then Dream would let him.

Dream met George’s dark eyes, saw himself reflected back in those pretty pupils. He saw himself as everything he hated, saw himself as broken and cowardly and afraid to pick up the phone because he knew who was calling. 

_What would he do if he saw me doing this?_

_Would he hit me? Tell me I’m a useless piece of shit?_

_Would he call me a f*g?_

_Would it all...be true?_

Probably. But what the hell, he’d already fucking hit him. He’d already called him all sorts of slurs. Dream didn’t care anymore, not in this moment. Instead, all he felt was that he had nothing left to lose. 

Everything he loved had been taken from him, his sisters, his mother, even his goddamn cat. 

Everything, that is, except George. 

He should’ve thought through what he did next, but he didn’t. He should have listened to the stupid fucking voice in his head that was always telling him what to do and never why.

Instead, he let his body take over, letting his usually even head fall away as his mouth continued the taunting.

“Oh yeah? How about now?” 

And then he kissed George.


	12. Oceans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I think everyone knows what’s gonna happen in this chapter... plus no one reads the summaries

_ “Oh yeah? How about now?” _

He could have sworn a bomb went off when he kissed George, because all at once everything changed. 

Fireworks blasted through his blood, energy coursing through him, spurring on the butterflies that had been residing in his stomach for days. 

They took flight in a rainbow of emotions, only quenched by the taste of George. 

And it was a wonderful taste indeed, one with a hint of cheesy pasta but more of a taste that was inexplicably but yet so purely his.

He didn’t know what he would have done had the brunette not kissed him back, but it didn’t happen.

Maybe it would have been easier for them both if he’d been rejected. 

Instead, George responded immediately, leaning into the kiss like Dream had always imagined he would. 

George’s hands were pulling at Dream’s sweater, trying to pull him closer even though there was no empty space between them.

The American’s hands drifted from the brunette's jaw, finding their way into George’s fluffy hair, and Dream broke away for a second to leave a trail of kisses across George’s neck, biting softly to mark his collarbones. 

He knew those marks would be visible for a day or two, and so did George.

The brunette shivered under him, making a soft little sigh that was almost a…

“Did you just moan?” He asked, breaking contact with George’s neck.

He wasn’t complaining, of course, just surprised. It had caused his mind to drift to all sorts of unthinkable places, and he felt his cheeks flame just from the thoughts.

“Did you like it?” The brunette said flirtatiously, raising his earthy eyes to meet Dream’s.

Fuck yes, Dream liked it. More than he wanted to admit.

But more importantly, he wanted to hear it again. 

George grew tired of the space between them, or perhaps cold without Dream touching him. He whined softly, hands tugging to bring Dream back to him. Dream didn’t oblige, though. 

Instead he stared at George, taking in what the brunette looked like, flushed from the kiss and clearly desperate for more. 

And Dream wanted to give him more, he really did. But in his pocket his phone had started to silently vibrate again, and now there was a sickness churning his stomach, disgust at himself, at George, at his stepfather for doing this to him.

How was it possible for one man to have so much power over him?

He’d been invaded by a parasite. It’d taken root in his mind and it had poisoned him from the inside out. He’d been left in fits of panic attacks, nightmares, and pain for days, sleeping in bus-stops, cut off from the world and feeling so alone, so scared.

So he’d gone to George. He’d bought a one way ticket, took off, and spent every second looking over his shoulder. 

He’d had the audacity to show up randomly, late at night, and been nothing but disruptive since.

He was exactly as his father said. A burden and a sin. He deserved to feel scared with every ring of his phone.

Those thoughts had always been there, all throughout his life-but they were accentuated lately. 

Whispered taunts became more than just nagging notions that could be pushed away. Now they were screaming at him, hitting him. Everyone begged for his blood, for him to collapse and give up. 

Maybe he wanted to. Maybe he would.

But he never seemed to want anything that was actually good for him. George was proof of that - he’d wanted to kiss George - but now that he had, he wasn’t sure how he felt.

He was intelligent enough to know that this was the universe's warning, telling him to back out before it was too late, to fix whatever was wrong with him before he passed it onto the brunette.

He was a strong believer that everyone had a certain destiny. It was written in the stars before any of them ever came to be and it would never change. 

If the universe wanted him to stop, he probably should. It didn’t give too many warnings, and when it did they were clear.

He didn’t deserve someone so amazing.

That thought was the only thing keeping him from leaning back into George’s waiting lips.

It was tearing him away from the comfort he desperately craved.

He felt like he was freezing over, stilling and locking into place, stuck faster than cement. He felt trapped, the air in his lungs thin and useless. 

_ I can’t do this. _

“George, I-“ George’s eyes narrowed, as if sensing what Dream was going to say. 

“I shouldn’t have done that,” Dream finished, desperate to explain himself to the brunette but having no idea how to. He began to gently untangle his hands from George’s hair, and tried to pull away. 

George didn’t let go of Dream’s hoodie, still holding him close, if not clenching even tighter.

“Dream, what? You can’t just-“

“Let go, George,” Dream interrupted, pulling away. He didn’t mean just physically, either.

“This isn’t fair, Dream. I want to help you, but you keep on pushing me away. Please, can we just talk?”

“I said let go.” Dream warned dangerously, not liking the edge that snuck into his voice. It betrayed him, making him seem angrier then he was, but then again, he supposed that was good. 

It was better to crack George now than shatter him later. 

George’s hands slowly uncurled from his sleeves, retreating back into his lap. 

How was it that the two feet between their faces felt so infinite, when just weeks ago thousands of miles felt like no distance at all?

Oceans have nothing on the tension of a broken kiss.

It took all his strength to convince himself to, but eventually Dream turned away, walking out of the kitchen, slipping on his shoes, and pushing out through the front door. 

He needed space, time, and fresh air.

Dream refused to look back as he left the porch, feet pounding on cold gray cement.

The air was thick with a promise of rain, or maybe snow, if it got cold enough, and the sun was hidden in the clouds, turning what could have been a nice day into a windy and gray one.

The wind stung his face, and he told himself that was the reason his eyes were watery and his breaths shallow.

He couldn’t hold back his emotions any longer. 

Tears dripped down his face, leaving a trail of tiny droplets across the sidewalk, a path for anyone looking for a broken man with a broken heart and no one to blame but himself and his own fucked up head.

It felt wrong to see his tears falling onto his lime green hoodie after all the amazing memories he had of it.

Of George wearing it.

_ I’m sorry, George. _

_ I’m an asshole, and you deserve better. _

_ You deserve someone that can kiss you without guilt. _

_ Someone who isn’t afraid to love. _

_ Someone that isn’t me. _


	13. Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George accidentally confesses a few things while on the phone with Sapnap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y’all I put unexpected visitor on wattpad! You can go check it out there if you want. It’s called unexpected visitor and it’s by cheebwasabitch, same as here!

George stayed up for him. He had to give the blonde time to cool off, so he didn’t call, but he waited. 

As he waited he made himself a cup of tea, and then another, and then yet another, as he waited for the door to open. 

He was sitting on the kitchen counter, tea in his hand, soft steam blowing into his face, transparent wafts of milky peppermint the only comfort he found in his empty house.

The steam reminded him of Dream’s breath, gentle and desiring, tickling his chin, curling around his neck with a lofty slowness that Dream had not showed.

No. Dream had been gentle, sure, but also fervent, vehemently nipping and sucking. 

He’d been shocked by the kiss, but he’d been even more shocked by the way it ended.

Dream had kissed _him_ , so why did George feel like he’d done something wrong?

Why hadn’t he gotten an explanation? Even a short text would have worked.

Instead he got silence.

George had been used before. He had been pushed around. Never in his life would he have thought Dream would be someone to do that to him, but it seemed so. And Dream had definitely not fully recovered from what his stepfather did, so George was struggling to be mad, but he was hurt. 

Not because Dream was scared. 

But because he refused to tell George about it.

_“I want to help you, but you keep on pushing me away. Please, can we just talk?”_

Dream hadn’t been interested.

Why the hell was he drinking tea? He set it down on the counter and dragged his feet over to his cupboards. After a moment of digging he pulled out some vodka. It wasn’t full, but there was plenty left.

He’d never been a particularly heavy drinker, but he enjoyed the way it took his mind off of everything. 

He let the burning in his throat replace the burning in his heart as he took a big swig, relishing in the momentary ease of his pain. This was good vodka - it’d been a gift from a friend, and he knew that the half bottle would fuck him up. 

Perfect.

He pulled out his phone and texted Sapnap, asking if he was available.

The Texan called just a few minutes later.

“Hey, is this about yesterday? Because once again you ended your stream suddenly without telling anyone and I only called you three times this time because I figured _something_ had happened and I didnt want to be pushy, but like WHAT THE HELL dude is this gonna keep happening cause it really sucks-“ the male blurted, seemingly able to continue, But George interrupted.

“Oh, right, I forgot about that. Yeah, something did happen. I’ll fill you in, but first I need to tell you a few things. Don’t be mad at me for not telling you earlier.” He cautioned before taking another tentative sip.

“Okay, shoot. But we’re coming back to the stream thing.” Sapnap muttered.

“Well, some things have been going on with Dream.” George began.

“What kind of things? I mean I know a little about...some stuff,”

George paused for a long time, mind spinning. He didn’t want to tell Sapnap anything Dream hadn’t wanted to share, but he needed his friend, and he trusted Nick. It wasn’t like he was telling the whole fandom.

“His stepdad hit him, Nick. And threatened to kill him. And I’m pretty sure he won't stop calling him, and there was this message in the chat yesterday, and-”

Sapnap quickly interrupted him. He could hear a sharp movement, like Nick had sat upright in his chair. 

“Whoa, what? Start from the beginning. His stepdad- he hit Dream?” Sapnap sounded confused, but also angry. George could picture him, eyes narrowed and lips curled into a scowl.

“He showed up covered in bruises. He only told me a bit, but he’s really scared, Nick. I don't know everything, but it's really bad,” George said softly, openly. He felt vulnerable, all his fear exposed to Sapnap.

“Fuck. I mean, I knew he hated him, but I never thought it would get to that point. Do you know what for?”

“Yeah. He’s, uh, he’s gay.” George mumbled.

“Oh. Oh, shit.” A long pause. “ Are you okay, George?” George rolled his eyes with a choked laugh.

“Why are you even asking? I think it’s pretty clear I’m not, but we need to focus on Dream,” There was another extensive pause, Sapnap clearly thinking.

“I’m asking because I care about you, and I know that you don’t like admitting you’re hurting, but you are. I want to help you both. I’m so sorry you guys have to deal with this. And I do wish you’d come to me sooner.” He said at last. George felt tears that he’d thought he’d finally seen the last of begin to pour down his face.

How did he possibly have anything left to cry out?

“Well, tell me the rest,” Nick said to George’s silence.

“His phone was ringing, but he was ignoring it. And he had a panic attack, I know you know about that,” he hoped that didn’t sound as passive aggressive as he’d meant it, because he immediately regretted his words. He took another sip of vodka, warm and comforting tea long forgotten on the counter, replaced with cool, dangerous liquid.

“You...heard that?” His voice was barely above a whisper.

“I did, but I didn’t know what to do. Or what it was. I’m glad he had you. Has he...ever-“ George began to stutter, throat clogging itself as more tears began to swell behind his eyes. 

“Had one before? Yeah. He’s called me maybe three times now, to help him through it.”

Was it sadness or guilt that was stabbing him?

“And there was this comment in the chat yesterday, I’m not sure if you saw it, but it-“ He spluttered, knowing he was taking agonizingly long to say everything, but he was having trouble speaking without breaking into sobs.

“I saw it. It was deleted as soon as I did, too. I hoped you hadn’t seen it, or Dream. I don’t know how it got through all the mods, usually that stuff’s filtered out. God, I wished I was still a mod right then. Do you not have banned words and things on your streams?” Sapnap’s voice was even, collected, but George knew he was seething. He was simply focusing on George.

“I used to, yeah. But then, after everything, I deleted them. And got rid of lots of mods. I-i-i” his throat was caught, pain swelling in his throat, constricting his voice.

“Take your time, George. It’s okay. Just breathe.”

George found his voice at last, understanding why Dream turned to Nick. His presence was soothing.

“I deleted everything, Nick. I wanted to see the hate. I deleted almost all the mods, so that I could see how people really felt about me.”

“George…”

“And they hate me.” He sobbed. “ The number of subscribers and followers I lost after coming out was _nothing_ compared to the number of people that stayed just to tell me how much they hated me. Don’t you think, if that many people feel that way, they must be right?” 

His face was contorted into one of pain and anger, and he waved his arms slightly around, spilling vodka on the kitchen counter where he was sitting. 

“George…” Sapnap repeated, but George still wasn’t done. 

“I didn't take you off because I wanted you to focus more on your own channel, I wanted to see how much everyone hates me,” He was practically laughing in hysteria, and he jumped down from the counter. The nearly empty vodka bottle fell from his hand, smashing on the floor, spilling all over his feet. He glanced down at it.

“ _Nobody_ hates you George. They just don’t understand-“ Sapnap said in concern. Had he heard the sound of breaking glass?

“Even Dream hates me, Nick. Or at least he hates who I am. What I am.” His sobbing voice cracked, revealing a new level of pain.

“I thought you two made up months ago,” Sapnap mumbled.

“We did. But he’s still homophobic and I’m still gay and for some GODDAMN reason I dont even CARE. How can I still love him even though he doesn’t love me? How can my heart do this to me? How can I fall in love with the ONE PERSON THAT I CANNOT BE WITH?” He was practically screaming. His eyes scrunched close, and he fell to his knees, letting his blood mix with the vodka as broken pieces of glass sliced into his skin. He didn't feel the pain in his knees, it was too overshadowed by the aching in his heart.

“You...You said you’re in love with him...” Sapnap’s rough voice echoed in the silence, reminding him that he still had his phone clenched in his shaking fist, switched to speaker. George dropped his head to his knees. 

Had he? 

He hadn’t meant to, but it was true. There was no denying it at this point.

He was in love. 


	14. Emancipation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George continues his conversation with Sapnap, who gets more and more concerned.
> 
> Read beginning notes for content warnings please.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: blood/injury, self-harm, suicidal thoughts, drinking, 
> 
> I haven’t been doing a very good job with warnings just because i’m not confident in what I do and don’t need to warn about or even what some of the content is featuring, but this will likely be one of the most intense chapters of the fic, and if you find yourself sensitive to these topics i might recommend skipping to the end notes.
> 
> (you should be fine for the beginning part, if you want to read the first half and skip to the end notes for a quick summary)
> 
> Also, the time is a bit wonky, but Dream’s POV would happen sometime in the beginning of George’s POV, so they’re happening at the same time.

Dream had walked for hours. He was scared to return, but he knew he had to. He had to wait till George was asleep, go back, pack his things, and leave without so much as a goodbye. There was no other way to fix what he’d done.

He couldn’t face George, and he wasn’t sure if that was because he would throw up or be unable to stop himself from kissing his best friend. Again.

Either situation was bad.

Dream should have known better then to kiss him. He should have known better then to fly too high, because now he was falling. 

His phone buzzed. George? 

He clicked it open, viewing the notification in messages. It was Sapnap.

He didn’t know if that was better or worse. It didn’t seem like he knew much of anything these days.

Sapnap: u need to go back

Sapnap: now

Sapnap: dream please I’m not kidding somethings going on george is not okay and i dont know what to do

Dream narrowed his eyes at the texts. Well shit. He was close to George’s house - he could be there in five mins. But then he’d have to face George, face the beautiful demon that had been haunting him all night.

Dream: what why?

Sapnap: DREAM JUST GO NOW 

Sapnap: PLEASE DUDE 

Dream put away his phone nervously and began to briskly head back to the house. Sapnap’s texts scared him, and he was sure they were meant to. 

His breathing was labored from his pace in the cold air, and he focused on the steam billowing out of his mouth with every breath.

The air felt thin, unable to fill his lungs the way it should.

He concentrated harder on every breath, counting as he inhaled and exhaled, forcing all his energy into the one simple task. 

Anything he could think about that wasn’t George.

  
  


**********************************

  
  


“You...You said you’re in love with him...” Sapnap mumbled through the phone in response to George’s outburst.

George winced.

“Maybe I am. But it doesn’t matter, Sap. He doesn’t love me. And he definitely isn’t in love with me.” George sighed through the phone. He was watching the way his pants were turning red with spilled vodka and blood. Those cuts were worse than he’d thought.

He should care. He should be in pain. But he wasn’t, he didn’t feel anything.

“George, he does love you. Everyone can see that. He’s scared, but he’ll get there. He-“

“No, Nick. He doesn’t. He’s disgusted by me. I just don’t understand, because one second he says this and then the next he takes it back, then he does that and then he stops and says he shouldn’t have.” His words were mumbles, hardly even able to be heard by himself, much less Sapnap through the phone. “I hate him. I hate that I want to hate him, but I dont. I cant. Why cant I hate him?” George cried out. 

Why was this so painful? Why was love so hard?

“What happened? What didn’t you tell me?” Sapnap asked, sensing something else was up. George didn’t have the energy nor the creativity to lie. 

All he could do was let salty tears drip across his face, staining him as he explained.

“He kissed me. And then he stopped and he said he shouldn’t have and he left. He’s been gone for hours.” George explained quietly, but even though his voice had dropped, it still trembled with anger and hurt.

_And I shouldn’t care. But I do._

“That’s why you called me? Because he kissed you and left?” George nodded, even though Sapnap couldn’t see him. “God, George. Don’t worry, we’ll find him later. But right now, I’m worried about you.”

_I’m worried about me, too. I’m scared of myself. I’m scared of this stupid nagging voice in my head that’s in love with Dream._

_It’s gonna make me do something stupid._

“I’m fine, Sapnap, really,” he wanted more vodka, but the cupboard was too far away, and whatever reason he had left was telling him he didnt need any more alcohol tonight.

“No, no, you most definitely are not.”

“I’m pathetic. And hated. God, why the fuck did I drop the vodka?”

“You’re drinking? George, stop drinking! Now! And just so you know, you’re not pathetic or hated. You are very much loved. By so many people. By me, by all your friends. Your parents. Even Dream. I know you don’t believe, me, but it’s true. And I think you’re spending too much time alone, so I just bought two tickets to Texas, and I messaged them to you. For you and Dream, if he wants one. They leave tomorrow night, okay? I dont want to leave you alone tonight, so we can FaceTime, and-” Sapnap blurted out.

“You’re a good friend, you know that, right?” George said, looking up for the first time in at least five minutes. He was still collapsed on the floor. Alcohol and blood staining his sweatpants. “I’m glad I have you.”

_I’m pitiful, lying on the floor like this._

_I just want it all to be over._

It took all his energy to climb to his feet, shaky legs the perfect representation of his dilapidated mind. He found his balance after a moment and lurched precariously across the floor to the bathroom. 

A trail of blood followed him, crimson dripping through the fabric, blossoms of red that would never wash out. 

He thought suddenly of the pants. 

They would never be free from the memory of tonight, of the abuse he’d put them through, even once they were thrown out. 

They would remain forever damaged, unable to be loved and cherished because of him.

It reminded him of someone.

He reached the bathroom at last, white tiles cold under his feet, sending a shiver up his back that he couldn’t even feel.

He’d become numb, or he thought he had, immune to all forms of torture except the never-ceasing pain inside.

I want the pain to go away. 

He could hear Sapnap talking to him through the phone, but he wasn’t really listening as he pulled open the cabinet. 

He clumsily knocked everything down as he found what he was looking for. 

A small orange container, full with sleeping pills he’d been prescribed months ago but never taken.

An emancipation.

He walked back into the kitchen, Sapnap still on speaker in his pocket as he struggled to unscrew the lid of the container.

He was so tired - but also so awake, buzzing with anger. 

That’s all the pills were for, to help him sleep tonight. He just needed a glass of water so he could take one, and then the night would be over.

However tempting another option was, he refused to even consider it.

That was the vodka talking, that was the hate comments barging into his mind, playing tricks on his sanity. That was not him. 

However hard everything was, he knew he could at least get through it, he knew that that was not the right way to escape his problems.

“George? George? Are you still there? What’s going on?”

He left his bedroom, ears pounding so loud he didn’t notice the door was opening till it was closed again. And there stood Dream, eyes red, hands clenched, lips slightly blue from the cold.

His blonde hair was as disheveled as it had been the first day he arrived. 

It looked good like that, messed and sticking up in all different directions. He wanted to touch it, run his hands through the softness.

Fuck, how much had he drank?

Dream’s wide eyes moved from where they were caught on the kitchen floor to the brunette. He looked George up and down, taking in his state. Then his green gaze drifted to the open bottle of pills clenched in his hand.

“George?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Basically for everyone who skipped the chapter, George finds some sleeping pills and considers taking them, mostly just to help him sleep but also considers the idea of taking more then he should. Sapnap texts Dream that he’s nervous about the way George is acting and tells him to return. Dream does.


	15. Karl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sapnap’s POV.

Nick groaned in angry frustration, running his hands through his hair.

His desperate texts to both George and Dream were being left on delivered. 

Something was going on, and he didn’t know what. He couldn’t hear anything through the phone, and there was nothing he could do.

He couldn’t call the blonde without hanging up on George, and he definitely wasn’t going to do that, even though the brunette wasn’t responding to him.

He’d never felt so powerless, so completely and utterly alone.

“George!” He yelled again, just for good measure. The only response was the sound of rustling fabric.

Was George’s phone switched off speaker? Or simply forgotten?

What was going on?

Being left in the dark for as long as he had been was painless compared to knowing George was hurting but not being able to hear him. Why did his two best friends have to be so far away?

He’d felt excluded when they’d met up without him, this was not that. This was torture. What were they doing? Was George okay? He said he’d been drinking vodka, and everyone knew Geroge didn’t handle liquor well. 

Then out of the darkness, a whisper of noise. Sapnap barely heard it crackle through the phone, but it was there.

_“George?”_

Yes! Dream! That had to be Dream. There was no other explanation. 

“Dream! Dream, tell me what’s going on!” He yelled into the phone, but was met with silence.

_“George, what are you...what the fuck?”_ Dream’s voice said. Sapnap could hardly hear Dream, and if George responded he missed it. The call went silent, and it stayed that way for minutes. Whatever it was that was going on, Sapnap wasn’t going to know until one of his friends realized he was still on the phone. 

He must have sat there for nearly half an hour, listening to silence, sometimes the occasional shifting of material, or some muffled words he could’ve never made out.

He back ached from the way he was sitting, but he was afraid to leave the room, not knowing when they would text him or say something he could hear.

Terrible thoughts were running through his mind, worst case scenarios that he hated to think about quickly becoming the only thing he could think about. 

He was scrolling through his phone, checking email. The conformation for the two tickets he’d bought seemed to be burning through the screen. Maybe he shouldn’t have done it. Maybe he should have bought himself the ticket, and flown there to meet them. Would that be faster? He could go now, maybe get there by afternoon. 

What did you need to travel between countries? He had a passport, was that all he needed? He sighed, glancing at his text chains.

George had never opened any of his messages, not the tickets nor any of the texts about what was going on, and Dream hadn’t responded to anything except Sapnap telling him to go back.

And thank god he had, or Sapnap wouldn’t be able to handle it. The only thing keeping him sane was the knowledge that the two of them were together, whatever had happened with George would at least be handled by Dream.

Not that the Floridian was in any state to be handling anyone else’s problems. 

That was the issue. George needed Dream, and Dream needed George, but they were both trying to convince themselves, and each other, that they didn’t.

Fucking idiots, both of them.

“God help me if I ever fall in love.” He laughed to himself, then let his smile slip away. He didn’t feel right laughing, not when something was happening. 

He just needed to know they were both okay, and then he would be alright. But he’d tried everything, even stalking them on snapmaps. They were officially off the grid.

Sapnap thought he was a good friend. He’d always done everything he could to be there for George and Dream. He wanted to be the one they called in the middle of the night, if they needed him to be. 

But it felt like he was always getting the short end of the stick. He was always the one that wasn’t with them, that didn’t understand the joke. 

These feeling would pass, they always did, but for now they were all he could think about. 

These all consuming notions that swallowed him whole, eating up every waking thought. He couldn’t take his mind off of them, not even for a moment.

He just missed them, was all, and it hurt him to know they were together. 

He’d had a hard time one George’s stream. He saw every time the brunette looked ot the side, smile on his face. The face of someone in love, sure, but the face of someone who had somebody to look at. Had somebody there, in person. 

He just wanted them to come here, to wipe away his loneliness and replace it with stupid, lovesick idiocracy. He could use their couple fights as fuel for why he wanted to be alone. 

As appealing as it was, it made him slam is head into his desk. Then it made him cry out, because that had fucking hurt.

Since when was his desk so hard? It was just wood. He groaned, rising up from his chair. 

He wandered around his room for a second like he had something to do, then eventually slumped back into his chair, because he had no clue what to do.

He tapped the power button on his pc, booting it up. The screen came alive in a whirlwind of flashing colors, bringing up discord, reminding him painfully that his friends were offline. Well, not all of them. 

There was, of course, Karl. There was always Karl.

He typed out a quick message, asking if he wanted to play. The response was an immediate yes.

_See, that's how you respond. Not that hard._

He thought angrily at George and Dream, then felt bad, and apologized to them in his head. 

He booted up Minecraft, and joined the SMP, logging on to find KArl waiting for him. He glanced down at the in game chat.

Karljacobs: VC?

Sapnap: Uh i cant rn sorry

He sent it, biting his lips as he did so. If he called Karl, then he wouldn’t be able to hear George and Dream when they got back to him. 

If they ever did.

He and Karl played for a short bit, the brunette bringing smiles to Sapnap’s face, but not thought quenching how abandoned he felt. At last, he typed into the chat, joined a vc, and waited only a few seconds before Karl joined.

“Hi Sap!” 

“Hey, whats up,”

“Oh, you know. Playing Minecraft. With my buddy. His names Sapnap. He’s usually in a great mood, but he’s sad today.”

“Shut up. I’m not sad, I’m just tired,” Sapnap denied, and Karl laughed.

“It’s, like, five there. No way you’re tired,” Karl laughed. Sapnap could picture the way he would have looked up to do the math, the way he was smiling, distorting his words as they slipped out of his curved mouth.

“I got up early, man,” he muttered, both knowing it was a blatant lie.

“Oh, sure.” Karl laughed. “Seriously, dude, what's wrong. You can talk to me, you know,”

“Well, nothing really. Just feeling a bit lonely today, I guess,” he answered honestly. Maybe Karl would sympathize, even though Nick couldn’t tell him everything about Dream, that was basic enough.

“Oh. That’s too bad.” Sapnap sighed. No we he’d made Karl all sad. What was wrong with him? But then his friend resumed his good mood, not letting Sapnap drag him down. “Well, you better not be lonely anymore, cause I’m here. And I’m about to kill you and steal all your stuff,”

“No chance!” Sapnap yelled, hitting Karl’s avatar back on the screen with a diamond axe. Karl’s character turned and ran, giggling.

They continued to chase each other and mess around for a while. Sapnap almost forgot about George and Dream, until a text caught his attention.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hahaha sorry for not resolving last chapter at all but yk I wanted to show a little Karlnap for a change


	16. Sleeping Pills

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream takes care of George after their traumatic night.

Dream rushed forwards, closing the space between them as fast as he could. 

“George, what are-What the fuck?” He cried out, emotions taking over. George stumbled backwards, almost afraid.

_I’m the one who’s afraid._

Dream snatched the bottle from George’s hands, looking at the clear plastic, the tiny white label filled with letters that Dream couldn’t seem to process, each word rearranging itself to spell out death.

“What are these? Did you take any? How many did you take?”

“I-they’re sleeping pills. I didn’t take any-“

“Don’t lie to me! Your shaking, and you-you’re bleeding, and there’s blood everywhere, and-and-and,” He stammered out, George’s frightened face looking more and more nervous as he ranted. 

Fuck. He needed to calm down. 

“I’m sorry,” George mumbled softly.

“What? No, no, you have nothing to be sorry for. Why are you always the one apologizing? This is my fault,” Dream mumbled. He reached out, pulling George into a hug. He wasn’t sure which one of them needed it more, but it was nice. 

And then George slumped to the ground, hardly conscious. 

Dream had no idea if he’d taken the sleeping pills or not, only that he smelled like a minibar and had lost a lot of blood. Dream picked him up before lying him back down onto the couch.

He pulled up the sweatpants, then winced as he saw the wounds. Broken glass was deeply embedded in the soft flesh, tinged pink from blood. 

Did that not hurt? Why hadn’t George done anything?

Dream didn’t know where to start. Should he try and get him to throw up? Take out the glass? Bring him to a hospital? Dream couldn’t drive, and George was definitely in no state fro that. He supposed calling someone would be best, but he didn’t know. He didn’t know anything.

He had this strange desire to be talking to someone, someone he trusted that he knew would help them both through this, and he realized with dread the person he wanted most in the world was the one he needed help saving. 

“Do you hate me?” George’s trembling voice broke through Dream’s silent panicking.

“I could never hate you, George.” He said immediately.

“You don’t love me, though.” The brunette responded curtly. Dream refrained from wincing the best he could.

“I love you so much, Georgie. I’ve never loved _anyone_ the way I love you,” he responded breathlessly, unsure if George could even hear him in his current state. 

He was confused by how easily that had slipped out. It was one thing to think it-he’d done enough thinking the past hour or so to reach that definite conclusion-it was another to say it.

However, he’d lost control of his own voice, and it continued to spill hushed secrets, telling George too much and not enough at the same time. 

“It makes me so fucking scared, George. Because I don’t know what I would do without you,” he took hold of George’s hand, looking at his best friend and unable to think of anyone he loved and needed more. 

Then, like something in his mind had clicked, he knew what to do. 

“I need you to tell me if you took any of those pills, and how much you drank, George,” His voice was sharp and demanding, and he was glad. He didn’t want George to see how panicked he really was, how close he was to losing his mind.

Even if the Brit hadn’t meant to die, the combination of pills and alcohol was a bad one.

He waited until George swore he hadn’t taken anything and that he’d spilled most of the vodka before beginning to take care of George’s knees.

He wet a washcloth, and he started to clean up George’s legs, doing his best to be gentle. 

He was less scared now, seeing as George was more awake, and the initial assumptions he’d come to were fading away. 

There was a lot of blood, but the bleeding was slowing down, and the glass was buried shallow enough that it was easy enough to remove. 

The vodka must have stung a lot, but at least there wouldn’t be an infection.

At first George had hardly seemed to notice the cuts, but the longer he lay on the couch, Dream beside him, knees aching from the awkward position, the more he began to react, from shuddered exhales, to verbal expressions of his pain. 

Relief flooded Dream, because though it was bad, it was not as bad as he’d thought. Not as bad as it could have been. 

There had been nothing scarier to him then the way George had been so numb to the pain. Maybe the alcohol was wearing off, after Dream had gotten George a granola bar and numerous glasses of water as he extracted the glass with tweezers. 

He was sure he hadn’t done a very good job, but the bleeding had stopped, and any leftover glass would be easily removed the next day by a doctor, as soon as Dream could get George to one. 

He pulled out his phone, thinking suddenly of Sapnap. Sapnap was the only reason Dream had come back when he did-if Nick hadn’t texted him, the night could have ended a lot worse. 

He opened up his phone, not surprised by what he saw but also not pleased.

He had hundreds of text messages. Shit. 

He scrolled a bit, looking at them all. They were all asking the same thing; was George okay, what had happened, why weren’t they responding, he was still on the phone, text him back when he could, on and on and on.

He typed out a quick message, fighting his fatigue the best he could.

Dream: George is okay

Dream: ill tell u everything later, need sleep

George was not going to die, or even come close, and for a sleep deprived, guilt-torn Dream, that was enough. He’d have to hope it was enough for Sapnap, too, at least for a little while.

Then he reached into George’s pocket, pulling out the brunette’s phone. He clicked it on, and then realized what the background was.

The photo they’d taken together, the one that had been all over Twitter and tiktok for days. 

_You make it so easy to love you._

He clicked on the small green dot at the top, the only signal that he was still on the phone with Sap.

He put the phone on speaker, listening for a moment to see if the Texan was even there.

There was silence, so Dream ended the call. Maybe Sap was sleeping.

Sleep sounded good, but he couldn’t let himself sleep. What if George woke before him?

He didn’t mean to give in to the notion so quickly, in fact, he tried his best not to, but eventually his eyes forced themselves closed and he fell asleep, head resting on George’s stomach, seated uncomfortably on the floor beside the couch. 

He didn’t care that he would be sore and stiff in the morning.

He was just happy George was going to be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So y’all seemed to like the Sapnap and Karl in the last chapter so I think I’ll write another chapter from Sapnaps pov, also I’m currently thinking about starting a fic that takes place during the masquerade from Karl’s latest tales of the smp stream. Let me know if anyone would read that it’d be a james(sapnap) and Karl fic, probably only a chapter or two, maybe a bit smuttier idk yet.


	17. Two Boys, a V-neck, and Sleep Deprivation

Sapnap didn’t care if George was okay, because the Brit was going to be dead soon. So was Dream. Nick was going to fucking murder the both of them.

He’d fly halfway across the world just to punch them. The kindest thing he could imagine doing for them right now was putting their graves next to each other so they could hold hands in the afterlife, lovesick dickheads. 

He sighed, adjusting himself on his bed. Worst night of his life had passed, yet he still couldn’t sleep. 

He’d stayed on the SMP for a bit longer with Karl, before the other boy had decided he was too tired and wanted to sleep. Then Nick had been left alone, nothing but an empty house, a discord full of grey offline statuses, and a pit of abandonment in his stomach. He assumed Dream had fallen asleep right after texting him, and that George was passed out too. 

The call had been ended when he looked last, meaning that either Dream or George had found George’s phone.

He wasn’t sure if he should be upset that they hadn’t spoken to him, even for a moment, but he couldn’t find the energy to feel anything other than loneliness and fatigue. He was too exhausted to sleep, and he hated it.

He opened up his text chain with Karl again. He’d never realized how needy he was until the two people he leaned on the most were suddenly gone.

Sapnap: hey dude did u go to bed already?

The response came in minutes, Karl being the amazing friend he was.

Karl: I’m about to but not yet

Karl: why u wanna talk?

Sapnap clicked on the FaceTime button, holding his breath as he stared blankly at his reflection in the call. The pixels changed, and there was Karl, tousled hair and gentle brown eyes rimmed with pink. 

He looked tired as all hell. It was obvious he’d been asleep.

Nick liked him like that, messy and sleepy, but he felt guilty for causing it.

“Shit, man, I didn’t mean to wake you,” he quickly blurred. But hadn’t that been exactly what he’d tried to do?

“No, no, no, it’s good. Don't worry about it,” Karl amended immediately, shaking his head at the apology but not denying any part of it. 

He tugged on the collar of his shirt subconsciously, causing Sapnap’s eyes to flick towards the movement.

_ I don’t think I’ve ever seen Karl in a v-neck before. _

He tended to usually wear sweaters, or oversized t-shirts, anything that bulked his frame up. He looked fragile in clothing so thin. Like he needed the comfort as much as Sapnap. 

He really needed to stop forcing the emotions he felt onto other people. 

“You look different like this,” he blurted out. What had happened to thinking before he spoke? Where was his intelligence? “Softer,” he added, trying to make Karl look at least slightly less confused. 

A cute lopsided smile appeared.

“Is that a compliment, or…”

“It’s a compliment.” Nick assured him. 

_ One of many I could give right now. I could comment on the way your hair looks fluffier, or how that slight blush on your cheeks looks so right, and that your dumb smile is giving me butterflies.  _

Thank god he didn’t say any of those, though he thought there might have been a chance he would’ve if Karl hadn’t spoken.

“Well, you look like dog water. When’s the last time you slept? Or ate something semi-healthy? Did you drink water today?”

“Oh, gee, thanks. I got a couple hours this week. And I eat super healthy, just so you know. Lots of green shit.” He didn’t answer the question about water, because he felt that Karl needing to ask him if he’d drinken any water was extremely offensive, and should not be honored by a response. 

He wasn’t dying, he ate good and drank plenty, he’d just had a rough time falling asleep. Just the past few nights.

“What the honk! A few hours in a week? Of course you’re all sensitive right now. You need to sleep,” Karl exclaimed. 

Sapnap decided right there that he didn’t hate being called sensitive by Karl, even though he hated when Geroge and Dream made fun of him for it.

Sapnap opened his mouth to say something, probably insulting, but his thoughts had betrayed him and what he said was entirely different then what he meant to say.

“I wish you were here right now, not just on the phone,” he murmured, looking at Karl as he blushed slightly, hardly visible in the dim light.

There was a short pause, that looked like Karl collecting himself. He felt bad-he  _ was _ being sensitive, and it wasn’t Karl’s fault that he was becoming the subject of Nick’s lonely pining.

_ I’ll just blame it on sleep-deprivation. It’s true, anyway. There’s nothing else it could possibly be. _

_ Unless it’s...that. _

“Uh, me too,” Karl coughed out nervously, reminding Sapnap of what he’d said. “We should definitely, like, meet up.” Nick nodded.

There was another long silence before Karl spoke again. “Hey, are you really doing okay? You’ve seemed really...lonely lately.” Well shit, who knew he was a fucking detective?

Sapnap decided to answer honestly.

“I’ve been lonely. I think I’m missing human interaction a lot right now. This house is very empty.” It felt nice to finally touch on the subject, hard as it was to admit. 

“Well, I could come. It’s only, what, a day of driving?” Karl proposed. Blood rushed to Sapnap’s head at the idea. It sounded incredible, and he wanted to say yes, with all his heart he wanted to meet up with Karl. 

But he knew that if he said that, then Karl Jacobs, the most selfless person Nick knew, would be on his doorstep in significantly more time then google maps told him because there was no way he’d speed.

“I’m not asking you to do that drive, ever. No way. No, I'll be alright. I think it’s mostly this whole Dream and George thing that's getting to me.” He responded truthfully. Did he imagine the disappointment on Karl’s face?

“Oh. So what are you gonna do about it?” Karl responded curtly, raising his eyebrows. Sapnap sighed in defeat.

“I don’t see what else I can do. They’re not responding to me, and something's happened, and I’m just out of the loop, you know,” 

Karl nodded along, opening his mouth to respond, but a stifled yawn was the only sound he made. 

“I’m keeping you up. Go to bed. I'll feel fine by tomorrow, I’m sure.” Sapnap decided promptly. He should never have dragged Karl into this, swamping his friend with his own personal problems.

Karl hesitated for a long moment, eyes staring slightly to the side of the camera, so Nick knew that he was looking at him. He looked sad, like he wanted to help but couldn’t. 

_ I know that feeling all too well.  _

When Karl spoke at last, his voice was higher pitched and somewhat anxious.

“I’ll go to bed, but you have to too. And, um, I-i could stay on the phone, if you want,” Karl suggested, reaching up and turning out the light like he already knew what Sapnap’s answer would be.

“Yeah, I guess. I think I’d like that,” Sapnap agreed, aware that this was Karl’s way of making sure that Nick went to sleep but not really caring. 

He turned off his own light and let the darkness envelop him, crushing loneliness he always felt somewhat chased away by the phone beside him. 

He closed his eyes, letting Karl’s soft breaths occupy his mind, focusing solely on synching every inhale and exhale until he felt the waves of sleep pull him under, the tide washing away his insomnia.


	18. Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream and George both encounter nightmares, Dream’s a forgotten memory from his past and George’s a reoccurring fear of what could have been.

Clay opened his eyes, taking in the unfamiliar landscape warily. 

Palm trees swayed timidly in the gentle wind. Their waxy leaves brushed against each other. The noise should have been pleasant, but it wasn’t. 

Instead it sounded like nails on a chalkboard, sounded like the slap of skin against skin. It sounded like old scars being covered with new ones. 

It sounded so different then he remembered. 

Clay’s eyes landed on the gate before him, and when he reached out to touch it the black metal burned his hands. He finally opened the noisy gate, then walked the few feet to the house ahead. Cool air conditioning soothed his warm skin as he let himself in, and he allowed himself to bask in it for a few long moments before turning down the hallway, heading for his room. 

It was his parent’s house, somewhere he was no longer allowed to go. So why was he here?

He saw a flash of a pink shirt, and then his sister was pushing past him, leaving his other sister’s room in haste, head down, avoiding him.

Had he done something wrong?

His arm jutted out, catching Drista by the sleeve and spinning her around. Surprise and anger flitted across the younger girl’s face. 

A face badly covered in makeup.

“Drista? What are you-where did you even get that?” He laughed, unable to control his reaction to the sight.

Drista didn’t respond, instead letting her embarrassed face answer the question. 

Dream sighed, still trying to calm down his wheezing laugh, seeing that Drista didn’t find it funny.

“Look, if you want some makeup, I’ll take you to the mall and we can buy some, but don’t use your sister’s.” He looked closer. “Your skin tones are so different, you look ridiculous,”

She had contour hastily applied over half of her face, slopped on too thick over her cheek. Her eyes were rimmed with red, like she’d been crying, and she seemed unusually quiet.

“Hey, are you okay?” He asked softly, taking her in again. Something was off.

“Clay-“ Drista cried out suddenly, and she slumped forwards, wrapping her arms around him and beginning to sob. 

Well shit.

He hugged her back, unsure what the sudden emotions were all about. 

He was only 18; young and stupid and brash. He was obsessed with bothering his 11 year old sister, video games, and not much else.

Their rocky relationship consisted of teasing and play-wrestling. He was the oldest, and she was the youngest. They were destined to never get along.

Dream didn’t think she’d ever cried to him like this. It surprised him, and he wanted to know why, but he was shocked.

“What’s going on?” He asked at last. She snuggled against him.

“I just...need a hug. And some makeup.”

“Okay. Okay. Here, you go wipe that off and I’ll get ready to go, we can go right now. I don’t know why you need makeup, you're only eleven.” He asked her, and she shook her head against him.

“I'm not taking it off. I-i can’t explain it. I just need it, Clay. Please.”

So the two of them climbed into the car, drove the short ten minutes to the mall, where they found a Sephora and promptly entered.

Dream was immediately uncomfortable. He was not in his element. There were girls and shelves of makeup that all looked the same to him, but there seemed to be a difference to everyone else in the store. 

He let drista select whatever she needed, and then handed over his credit card, somewhat reluctantly, so she could buy it.

They returned home, and Drista wore a full face of makeup for almost two weeks. Whatever it was she was trying to cover, she covered it well.

She wore it enough that it almost started to look good.

Dream got reamed out by his family for allowing her the opportunity to wear makeup, for allowing her to hide her face behind a mask.

And then, all of a sudden, Drista stopped wearing it, and Dream had never seen a speck of contour on her young face since.

He woke in silence, eyes opening without the jolt of panic he often experienced. 

Instead there was pain and longing in its place.

He closed his eyes, deciding to go back to sleep rather than think about whatever his subconscious mind was telling him. 

Drista’s face haunted the back of his eyelids, torturing him as he drifted off, a painful reminder of the signs he’d missed, the lies he’d believed. 

What an idiot he’d been back then.

****************

George was seventeen. He knew this because he was seated inside his parents old gray minivan. 

It was the day of the crash. Well, no, the day that _could_ have been a crash. But his mind hadn’t seemed to understand the difference yet. 

Fuck. 

He’d had this nightmare before, and it always ended differently. Sometimes George died. Usually not, though. Sometimes nothing happened at all.

He gripped the steering wheel tighter, then reminded himself that it wasn’t really _him_ doing that.

This was a dream, a warped and terrifying one, but a figment of his imagination. If he tried hard enough, he could control it, right? 

But he said that every time, and every time it ended badly. 

He saw it then, the exit he was supposed to take. He was almost out of time. 

George turned on his flicker, moving into the lane, but then driving past the exit at the last second. He continued flying down the highway, foot pressing harder and harder on the pedal until he was way over the limit. 

The car was swerving uncontrollably.

_I don’t want to die._

_I don’t want to be in any more pain._

But it was useless.

The car still swerved, slamming violently into the concrete barrier on the side of the road. 

There was a moment of silence, of relief and regret and every empty emotion in between. 

Then the mirage shattered just like the windshield, the airbags deployed, the world collapsed. 

He let the seat belt hold him tight as the light faded. 


	19. Scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George and Dream talk. That’s definitely all they do.

George woke up to a weight on his chest.

He opened his eyes, shaking away his dream and taking in the blonde sleeping on him. He was curled up uncomfortably against the couch, head on George’s stomach.

_ That can’t possibly be comfortable. _

Like Dream had heard George’s thoughts, the blonde stirred. He shifted sleepily, adjusting so he was looking up at the brunette. A soft smile spread thinly on his perfect lips.

“Hi Georgie,” he whispered. 

Fucking butterflies. 

“Hi dreamy,” he whispered back. Dream’s smile broadened.

“Are you okay?”

“I will be. Are you?” He responded. Dream thought for a second but never broke eye contact.

“I will be.” He whispered back cheekily. George wanted to roll his eyes, but he didn’t, refusing to break their eye contact for something so frivolous. 

“I love you,” George whispered. Dream didn’t hesitate.

“I love you too.” 

And the butterflies were back.

“I’m sorry for scaring you,” George continued once he’d found a way to breathe through all the insects in his system.

“It’s not your fault. But if you could maybe...explain a bit? I think I have a lot to explain to you, too,” George nodded in agreement.

“I’m starving. Let's make some breakfast and talk.” The brunette proposed.

It wasn’t long till the entire house smelled of burnt toast and eggs. Dream and George were both too hungry to care about the scuffed meal, and they both inhaled the food in minutes. 

George was pouring himself his third glass of orange juice when Dream began to speak.

“I fucked up. Really bad.” George set down his glass, surprised at Dream’s willingness to talk. “I see that now. I should never have kissed you, because that wasn’t fair to you, and I  _ definitely _ shouldn’t have run out afterwards. I should never have left you alone here.” He wasn’t looking up from his plate, but his words were pronounced and firm, and George knew it would be impossible for him to change his mind about any of it. He smiled sadly. 

“I forgive you, Dream. I shouldn’t have gotten so upset about it. You aren’t ready-i understand that, and I respect it. These...these feelings, that I have, will go away.” He wasn’t so sure if they would, but maybe he could convince Dream.

“I don’t want them to go away. And I don't want forgiveness. What I did was terrible, and I don't want you to dismiss it. You could have been really hurt.” Dream sighed. His voice was still timid, afraid to truly become angry. Maybe he was afraid it would frighten George. Or maybe himself..

“We all make mistakes, Dream.”

“This wasn’t just some stupid mistake,” the blonde mumbled. “This is going to scar.”

Sure it would. It would scar his heart and his body, and it would scar Dream too. But not all scars were bad. Not all scars were painful after they healed. George would know. 

“Scars heal.” He responded softly at last. Dream’s eyes narrowed.

“Just because the mark fades doesn’t mean the memories do.” Dream shot back, looking over at George for the first time. George thought of the marks on his neck suddenly, strangely desperate to see if they were still there.

“Well maybe I forgive too easily, Dream, but I can’t not forgive you. It’s too late, I already have. I was hurt by your reaction, but I understand that it’s not something you can control. I’m willing to be friends with you no matter how bad it hurts,”

“But you shouldn’t! You shouldn’t have to be friends with me despite my problems. You deserve something so much better than this!”

“I don’t want anything else, better or not. I want you, Dream.”

“What if I hurt you again?” Dream’s voice was at its breaking point, the same as them. 

“It’d be worth it,” George whispered breathlessly.

“Can-can i hug you?” The blonde blurted suddenly. 

_ Please do. _

George managed a shaky nod, saying only a fraction of what he wanted to, and then Dream had George in his arms, lifting him and carrying him to the couch despite the brunette’s surprise.

_ I was expecting a hug, but this works too. _

They flopped down together, Dream pulling George down to lie parallel to him, so close the brunette was practically on top of him, resting his head on his chest, staring at the tv as Dream clicked it on. 

He could hear Dream’s heartbeats in his ear, a rhythmic lullaby that promised him all the comfort and safety he desperately longed for. 

George had thought the conversation was finished, but Dream’s raspy voice told him otherwise. 

The television was on, but it was quiet enough to be spoken over.

“I’ve never been particularly good at...emotions. Or comforting people. I’ve also let myself be hurt in silence for a really long time. I turned a blind eye to so many signs, just because I didn’t want to see them. I had a dream last night. And it reminded me of a couple of things,” he started.

“I’m ready to go to Florida, once you're healed. I’m ready to get rid of my stepdad. I was scared at first, terrified, even, because I thought that my mom, and my sisters, might not believe me about him. I thought they might choose him over me. 

I was so caught up in the lies I was told I couldn’t realize that’s exactly what they were. Lies. Somehow, you have helped me realize what it means to be loved, and how much I need to get rid of him. 

I don't think I deserve to feel the way I do, and neither do you. You don't deserve any of the people in your life that treat you like shit just because of who you are. It’s better for you if I’m gone.” There was a softness in his voice that, a weakness unraveling before his eyes. A mask shattering right in front of him. 

And though what was under wasn’t pretty, it was  _ real _ . It was authentic and human. 

“Dream-“ George tried to interject, but Clay ignored him.

“Maybe, I can be for you what you were for me. Maybe I can set you free of all this stupid...everything”

Wasn’t that exactly what he’d wanted? An emancipation? A chance to leave all this behind him?

“Who do you think I am, Dream?” George blurted, sitting up suddenly. “I’m not looking to be set free. I don’t need you to tell me what is good for me and what isn’t. I love you. I know it hurts us both, but it also makes me happy. Being around you makes me so unbelievably happy. This, right now, makes me  _ happy.  _ It makes me feel loved. And you’re lying if you say you feel any differently. So maybe this  _ is _ the harder path, maybe this _ is _ going to scar. But even if it kills me, I’ll be damned if I regret it,” 

And then George leaned forwards, placing his hands on the sides of Dream’s face, cupping his angled jaw just right, and kissed him.


	20. Is That A Challenge?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George and Dream spend some time alone and on the phone with Sapnap.

Dream tugged George’s legs over him, pulling the smaller boy effortlessly into his lap. 

_ I need to stop.  _

_ But I don’t want to. _

Dream was sitting up now, chest heaving against George, out of breath but too caught up in the moment to notice. He’d rather pass out then break the kiss.

George’s hands were slipping under his sweatshirt, cold fingers trailing against Dream’s skin, causing him to shiver. 

They traced the lines of his stomach, working their way higher until his sweatshirt was being lifted over his head. 

George’s lips broke away from his so he could whine slightly, struggling with the sweatshirt. 

Dream frowned at the loss of contact, feebly trying to pull the brunette back but failing. Then he realized what the brit wanted and smiled. 

“Do you want something?” He taunted. George’s eyes tried to meet his, but Dream was too busy watching the others lips, and the way his tongue had darted out to lick them. 

“Off,” George panted desperately, tugging again. Dream pulled the sweatshirt off in one smooth motion, tossing it onto the table beside the couch with ease. 

He heard a soft bang and remembered belatedly that his phone had been in the pocket. 

Whoops.

He placed his hands on George’s hips, then slid the brunette off him, pushing him beneath the blonde to lie on his back. Then Dream leaned over him, cherishing the sight of the smaller boy trapped under him. George’s legs hooked around Dream’s back, a not-at-all subtle motion to pull Dream’s lips back to the brunette’s. 

It was impossible to resist.

Dream’s lips met the soft flesh of George’s Adam’s apple, and he nibbled on the bump, aware of the irony. 

Some tiny part of his brain registered his phone was ringing, but he ignored it in favor of listening to George’s labored breathing. 

Dream slipped his hands under George’s shirt and then pulled it off, refusing to let anything as thick as fabric come between the two of them. 

His phone was ringing again.

“That damn phone,” He muttered, reaching over to grab it and turn it off, until he saw who was calling. 

“It’s Sapnap,” Dream told George, looking to see the reaction.

“Oh. You should probably answer,” Was the only reply. 

“Yeah, I should.” Dream said, but he didn’t break his eye contact with George, and he didn’t pick up.

“We can, uh, do this later,” George coughed uncomfortably.

_ I’d rather do it now. _

But the mood was already ruined. 

He was suddenly self conscious of the way he kneeled over George, so he slid off the couch, giving them both much needed space.

But despite the space, or maybe because of it, Dream felt a certain panic rise in his throat. The panic of doing something in the moment and hating himself for it minutes later. 

But he was done with that. Hadn’t he decided he was done?

He’d been over this in his head a thousand times. Everything was fine. 

So what if he’d gotten caught up in it? It’s not like they did anything but kiss. 

Would they have, if Sapnap hadn’t interrupted? 

Fuck.

He answered the phone then, pressing it to his ear and immediately regretting it. 

“I HAVE CALLED YOU A THOUSAND TIMES AND TEXTED YOU A MILLION AND ALL I GET IS GEORGE IS OKAY! THIS IS FUCKING BULLSHIT. I WANT NEW FRIENDS!” The man screamed. 

George smiled a little, overhearing even though it wasn’t on speaker. 

“Hi, Sapnap,” George called out cheerfully. Dream looked up to notice that the brunette had put his shirt back on.

“GEORGE! YOU’RE ALIVE! I’M SURPRISED BECAUSE NEITHER OF YOU KNOW HOW TO BE HALFWAY DECENT HUMANS AND RESPOND TO A FUCKING TEXT!” He continued yelling. Dream let him finish his rant before switching to speaker so Sapnap could hear them both better.

“I’m sorry for scaring you, Snapmap. But we’re both doing okay now,” Dream replied to the outburst. 

“You better be okay,” Sapnap muttered angrily. Dream smiled, and so did George. “So, any chance you can make the flight tonight? I can rebook for tomorrow, or-“

“Sorry, what? What flight?” Dream blurted out, suddenly very uncomfortable. 

“I forgot to tell you,” George explained quickly. “Sap bought us tickets to Texas. To see him. I think it’s a good idea, if you’re comfortable?”

“Yeah, I mean, sure, but...It’s been almost a week, George. I need to go...home,” He said, remembering that Sapnap didn’t know everything yet. 

Expect that wasn’t exactly true.

“George told me, Dream. And if that’s where you want to go first, then you can. I’ll meet you guys in Orlando,” Sapnap offered. 

“I think, maybe Texas. Fly to Texas, and then maybe drive to Orlando? The three of us?”

That gave them time. Time for him to collect himself, and time to let George heal. Plus, Dream missed Sapnap, really bad. He wanted to see his friend, and he wanted Sapnap with him to confront his stepdad. 

The future was so unknown to him right now, it would be nice to have two safe and familiar faces standing beside him. 

_ Maybe Nick can keep my emotions in check. I know I sure as hell can’t.  _

“Alright. Sounds good. Go pack, fuckos. I’ll see you soon,” Sapnap said, and then the call ended. 

George and Dream stood in silence for a long while after, saying so much without saying anything at all.

“We should pack,” George blurted out at last. Dream nodded.

“Yeah, we should.” Dream responded quickly. “Wanna play Minecraft?”

“That sounds amazing,” George agreed. They made their way into George’s office, all set up with his monitors and PC’s. 

Dream logged into George’s laptop, and sat in the armchair he’d used last stream, logging into his account and then the smp.

“Should I stream? It might be my last chance to for a while,” George thought out loud.

Dream nodded enthusiastically. “Go ahead! I’ll just be here,” He smiled broadly and turned back to the zombie attacking him.

He watched George set up, vaguely interested in the process but mostly concentrating on his game. 

He saw George join at the same time as the stream notification was sent out. Dream typed hi into the game chat. 

George turned to him.

“I’m right beside you, dummy, you don’t have to chat me,” George laughed. Dream giggled, watching George type back hi. 

“Oh, I wasn’t muted. Whoops,” George muttered a moment later.

Dream burst out wheezing. 

“Well, they know I’m here, now,” he managed to say. 

A soft ding rang through the room, coming from George’s monitor. 

“George! Why are you streaming?!” Nick accused. 

“Cause I feel like it. Dream’s here too,” Sapnap groaned, then left the call. Dream started wheezing again. 

“He’s so clingy. I love him,” George laughed.

“I thought you loved me?” Dream asked, pretending to be offended.

“Eh,” George joked dismissively. Dream gasped in pretend shock. He noticed George unmute with the tap of a keyboard key, but ignored it. Instead he climbed to his feet, then took the two steps to George’s chair.

“Hi chat-Dream, what are you doing? Dream, move. I’m gonna turn on my camera,” George stammered out, watching him warily with frantic glances at his monitors..

“No.” Dream said. He leaned over George, looking at his eyes, pressing closer and closer until Dream’s top lip was touching George’s bottom lip. 

George squirmed uncomfortably, heat turning his cheeks and ears pink.

_ I love making you flustered. _

He didn’t stop there; instead he filled George’s cheek with his right hand and placed his left on George’s hip.

“Dream-Dream-,” George huffed, fingers fumbling on the keyboard, trying to mute. No, that wouldn’t do.

Dream smiled mischievously, nudging George’s chair so that it rolled back, putting too much space between the desk and George for anything to be done.

This seemed to be the last straw.

“ _ Dream _ ,” George pleaded, and Dream was about to pull back, deciding he’d played enough, but then George leaned forwards, finally accepting the kiss. 

_ Perfect _ . 

Dream slowly tilted his face away, stepping back and letting a maniacal smile spread across his face. Confusion flashed in the brunette’s eyes, before understanding and flustered irritation. 

He was blushing and breathing heavy, so obviously turned on, and Dream had hardly touched him. 

Dream clicked on the camera as he stepped out of the frame, letting the stream see the mess he’d made with a pleased chuckle. 

“Dream!” George said, wits snapping into place as he saw his picture on the camera. 

The chat immediately noticed the unusual fluster, and they’d heard the past minute as well.

The theories and questions and jokes were flying everywhere.

_ I’ll be seeing that on TikTok tomorrow. _

“Sorry, everyone, Dream was being...annoying. He’s not going to do that again though,” George explained, shooting daggers at Dream.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Dream said with a carefree shrug. “I’m just playing Minecraft,” 

He checked his phone discreetly a minute later, seeing that Sapnap had snapped him and Geroge had messaged him through discord. Strange, considering they were next to each other.

George: that was cheap

George: no more making me flustered on stream

Dream laughed at the texts. 

_ Is that a challenge, Georgie? _


	21. If I Win

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George and Dream make a bet.

“One more round, come on! Winner takes all,” Dream suggested. 

They’d been playing bedwars for a short bit, getting bored of the SMP after hardly an hour on it. 

“Ugh, I’m just going to beat you again, Dream. It’s no use,” George boasted, flaunting his four nothing win streak.

“It’s not my fault your laptop is so glitchy. I can’t do anything!” Dream complained. 

“My computer works fine. You’re just bad,” He looked over at Dream, basking in the puppy dog eyes. “Fine. Last round,” he finally agreed. There was no saying no to him.

“Alright, Let's raise the stakes. If I win...What do I get if I win…” George watched the blonde trail off. “If I win, George has to kiss me.” he decided.

“Dream!” George laughed. The chat immediately began spamming hearts and dnf and kiss kiss.

_He did that on purpose._

“I can’t believe you said that,” He grumbled. “we’re not doing that, chat,” he added.

“What? It shouldn’t be a problem, if you’re so good at bedwars,”

Dream hadn’t won a round yet. There was no way he’d win, right? And even if he did, George could always back out. 

God, this was such a bad idea.

“Fine. If you win, I’ll kiss you,”

“With tongue,” Dream added through his laughter.

“No. No tongue,” George smiled as the lobby loaded, feigning disgust. No need for chat to know that they’d already made out twice.

“Sure, you can say that now, but when I win I bet you’ll kiss me with tongue.”

“Shut up,” George laughed, glancing over at Dream’s smirking face.

The game loaded, and George quickly collected iron, then bought blocks and a weapon. He covered his bed hastily, and then went out to look for Dream.

They were playing on a map that was empty save for the two of them. This one was mesa themed, scattered all over with soft reds, oranges, and yellows. 

He sprinted over the colorful terrain, paying it no mind as he rushed to find Dream. The blonde was focused, fingers clicking furiously on the keys. 

_Seems like he really wants that reward_ . _Maybe I do too._

George was nervous, for some reason, and the nerves were making his fingers sloppy, and he nearly launched himself off the edge of his bridge. He recovered, thankfully, and spotted Dream right as the _Your Bed Has Been Destroyed, You Will No Longer Respawn_ popped up in his face.

Gritting his teeth at the message and Dream’s soft giggle, he continued playing.

He ran at the bright green avatar, jumping through the air as he attacked to get a critical shot. he managed to knock Dream backwards, but it wasn’t enough to knock him off the bridge.

The pvp continued for another few seconds as Dream jumped back onto solid ground, then sprinted forwards, taking George from surprise with a few well aimed hits. George fell off the map, watching as a red-tinted ‘You Died’ filled his screen. He was speechless.

Fuck. 

The chat was freaking out. George was freaking out. Dream was incredibly calm. Why was he so calm?

“Hah. I beat you,” Dream chuckled, closing his laptop.

“Thank you, captain obvious,” George rolled his eyes. They seemed to find their way back to Dream’s, though, catching on the blonde’s lips, on his eyes, on his sharp jawline.

“Well, are we going to kiss, or no?” George asked him cheekily. Dream smiled, but almost curiously.

“I thought that was a joke, George. I’m not going to make you kiss me,” 

Oh, so that’s what this was. A bit for the chat. A prank on George.

_Well, fuck you too, Dream._

“I usually make good on my bets, Dream,” George said with a smile. Dream quirked his eyebrows.

“Oh really?” Dream stood up, walking over to George carefully. George wasn’t sure what he was doing. 

Did he want to kiss Dream in front of thousands of people? could they even do it without showing Dream’s face? 

Would Dream be okay with it? Sure, he seemed fine now, but George wasn’t sure if he would be later. And then there was the comments in his stream. 

Someone would say something. What if Dream saw? What if everything went wrong? 

He glanced at Dream, widening his eyes to ask if this was happening. He got a shrug in return.

What the hell was that supposed to mean?

George could already feel his doubts fading, adrenaline kicking in, raising an unwelcome heat in his face. 

_Kiss me, Dream, before I make a fool out of myself waiting._

And as if the floridian heard his thoughts, Dream stepped forwards, roughly grabbing George’s chin and tilting it upwards and nearly out of the frame. 

Then the blonde dipped down carefully; pressing a light flutter of lips to George’s mouth, hardly anything at all, but enough to set George ablaze. He wanted more, but he was painfully aware of the camera. 

They were playing with fire, on the verge of both violating TOS and exposing Dream’s face.

So why was it so damn enthralling? 

He let Dream’s soft hold on his jaw lift him upwards and stepped forward, completely out of the camera.

Dream was smiling, a cheeky grin that made George blush.

The brit let his hands wander to the side of the blonde’s face, finding the soft hood of his sweatshirt and flipping it up, covering the side of the blonde’s face as best he could. 

Dream’s eyes had been steadily accumulating, and he acted on it now, knowing he could step in front of the camera.

The bigger man’s lips collided with his, fierce enough he felt his head tilt up and himself stagger backwards.

Dream took advantage of his momentary loss of balance and used it to continue pressing him backwards, pushing him up against the wall, pinning him.

George breathed out slowly, trying to keep it from being a moan, but he didn’t do a very good job.

He closed his eyes, praying that the mic hadn’t picked it up.

Tight against him, he felt Dream’s chest vibrate slightly, a soft chuckle at the sound George had made.

It wasn’t George’s fault that Dream was such a good kisser-he couldn’t help the noise. 

He was suddenly aware of air on his lips again, cold and empty and dead.

Dream had pulled back, though he didn’t seem like he wanted to.

“You’re still streaming,” Dream said around heavy breaths..

“Oh really?” George muttered sarcastically, wiping at his mouth. As sarcastic as he was, he had to admit he’d begun to forget the camera.

He glanced at the setup now, taking in the chat that was full to the brim of subscribers and followers panicking and celebrating.

He wished he could have looked away then, but as usual, he had to spoil his good mood for himself.

George’s eyes began to scan nervously through every comment.

He knew they were there, and after a moment he saw them.

_Okay great for them, but can they not do that on stream_

_ew anyone else weirded out by that_

_Being gay is one thing, but showing it’s another_

_gross i don’t want to see that_

_I like george but this is kinda too far_

_I really thought George was better than this._

“George? George!” Dream’s voice snapped him back to reality.

“Oh! uh, sorry, I was distracted,” George coughed out uncomfortably, ripping his eyes away from the screen to see Dream’s concerned face.

“You okay, George?”

“Yes. Yes, better than okay.” He dropped back into his chair and looked back to the screen, seeing himself in the picture for the first time. 

Oh…

His cheeks were flushed, red blooming across his pale skin, stretching all the way to his ears and cascading down his neck in embarrassing shades.

Messy and tangled hair fell across his forehead, though he wasn’t sure when Dream did that. George’s pink lips were swollen, hardly noticeable, but it was clear he’d been making out just moments before.

George cleared his throat uncomfortable, glancing to the side at a grinning Dream.

What an adorable, _annoying_ , idiot.


	22. Texas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George and Dream fly to texas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys i’m sorry I know I haven’t posted in forever i’ve been so busy and for some reason this chapter was just taking forever to write. I’ll try to get back to posting every two or three days next week, we’re almost at the end.

They narrowly avoided missing their flight.

They wound up next to each other, George in the window and Dream in the aisle, because they’d done Rock Paper Scissors and George had thrown rock even though he knew Dream always threw paper first.

The window had been a tiny price to pay for the proud smirk that had appeared on Dream’s celebratory face, even if it had only lasted a moment.

George reached across the armrest to clasp the blonde’s hand, squeezing it tight. 

Dream had been quiet, understandably so, but quiet nonetheless. George waited for the soft swueeze in return before letting his head fall to the side, resting on Dream’s shoulder. He closed his eyes sleepily.

“Were you okay with that? What we did earlier on stream?”

“I wouldn’t have done it if I wasn’t okay with it, don’t worry.”

“I want to go on twitter so bad,” Dream mused, George nodded against him, completely understanding, yet also feeling a light tug in his stomach, fear at the response they would get. 

He thought briefly of his aching knees and how little it had taken to bring him to the point he’d been at.

He wasn’t even sure if he felt any better–he couldn’t risk spiraling again. 

But he elected not to voice those thoughts aloud.

“I know. This is torture,” he instead complained. 

Dream twisted over slightly, pressing a gentle kiss to George’s forehead, a soft flutter of dry lips against soft skin. 

George relaxed into the simple touch.

Would Dream have done that a few days ago? What had changed?

It was like a switc had been flipped, and the world was brighter, but George knew that couldnt possibly be it.

The world didn’t work that way. There was no such thing as light without a shadow. And the brighter it seemed, the darker that shadow would be.

*************

Sapnap sat anxiously in the parking lot. 

He’d seen both their faces, and they’d both seen him, so he didn’t know why he was so nervous. 

Maybe it was because he’d watched George’s stream.

He was lonely enough as it was; being around a new couple sounded like hell. But he loved them and loved that they were together. He wasn’t jealous. He certainly didn’t need a relationship at the moment, no, there was too much going on. 

He let his head drop to the center of his steering wheel, accidentally honking the horn and scaring himself and the old lady walking past his car. 

He swore and picked his head back up. 

_ You can do this. _

He turned the car off and unbuckled his seatbelt, pulling out his phone. Both George and Dream had texted him while he’d been lost in his own tangled mind.

Dream: Just landed

Dream: Headed to baggage claim now

George: 4 tiktoks

How was it even possible for George to be sending him tiktoks? 

Nick sighed, not feeling up to watching them and knowing he didn't have time to anyway, seeing as he had to meet them inside. 

He slid out of the car and quickly made his way inside. 

He saw them almost immediately, and and nerves our fear he’d had dissipated. 

“GEORGE! DREAM! HI!” He yelled, sprinting across the carpeted floor, ignoring the stares. The two spun to face him immediately. 

“SAPNAP!” They shouted back, echoing his own excitement. Sapnap finally reached them, stepping forwards to envelop Dream in a hug.

It must have been the way he outstretched his arms, or maybe he’d just moved too quick, but he had to have come off more aggressive than he’d thought. 

The blonde flinched backwards. Hard. Enough that it was noticeable, eyes cinching shut and arm raising to protect his face. 

Sapnap’s smile dropped as reality crushed him. Fuck.

“Shit, man, sorry. Reflex. Come here,” Dream amended quickly, casting aside the concerning reaction like it had never happened, stepping forwards and pulling a surprised Nick into his arms. The hug was quick and different then it should have been.

“I’m sorry,” he said as Dream pulled away.

“You didn’t do anything, Nick. It’s fine,”

“Still,” Sapnap stated as he turned to George, crushing the small brunette against him.

“Holy shit,” He whispered into the man’s ear, quiet enough that he was sure Dream couldn’t hear him. “I didn’t know it was going to be that bad,” he added. George nodded slightly in understanding and agreement as they separated.

“How was the flight? Everything went well?” He asked, changing the subject as smoothly as he could. His friends seemed happy to talk about something else.

“It was great, we both slept like, the entire time,” The pleasant conversation lasted hardly a minute longer, switching as soon as they were all seated in the car, George in the back seat and Dream in the passenger while Sapnap drove. 

“So that stream yesterday…” Sapnap mumbled, glancing at them as they both turned beet red.

“You saw that?” George croaked, shifting uncomfortably in the back.

“Of course I saw it, dumbass. The whole world saw it. Because you fucking live-streamed it!”

“Sapnap’s just jealous.” Dream chided, trying to comfort George, who looked like he was going to pass out. 

Nick rolled his eyes.

_ Am I? _

They lapsed into a comfortable silence for almost the rest of the ride, occasionally cracking jokes or singing along to the songs that popped up on the radio.

Sapnap  _ knew _ he shouldn’t be comfortable. He should be worried about the both of the,. He should be doing a drug test on George and shipping them both off to therapy.

He should be calling child services or 911 or  _ somebody _ . He should be capable of doing  _ something _ .

But he just wasn’t.

He wasn’t able to make that call, to make that depiction, to propose that question. He didn’t know what to do or how. He was too young to deal with this, he was too scared and shocked to process it. 

All he knew was that he was with his friends and they were safe, and they were going to fix everything as soon as possible. 

That had to be enough for him. 


	23. Two Lazy Men Fight On Twitter and Minecraft

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George and Sapnap talk and joke together. Dream just sleeps idk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes this chapter is like 1800 words what about it. I was gonna cut it into two but i just really don’t feel like it so instead you all get a monster chapter as compensation for the infrequent updates and short chapters. I’m like failing school so expect a bit more time between each update sorry!

George glanced across the couch to Sapnap. The three of them were sprawled out across the sofa lazily, Sapnap watching the movie disinterestedly, George scrolling half heartedly through twitter, and Dream fast asleep.

“He breathes so heavily,” Sapnap jokes, glancing at the sleeping blonde between them.

“Yeah.” George agreed, then thought for a moment. “I don’t know how he’s asleep, I’m wide awake,” They’d slept on the plane, and when they got back to Sapnap’s house, and it was currently around noon.

“Same,” Sapnap mused, nodding. A long and somewhat awkward silence happened before Sapnap spoke again. “It’s really bad, huh,”

George understood quickly. He closed his phone and tucked it into his pocket. 

“He flinched like that for me too, at first. He’s just...going to take some time to adjust.” The brunette tried to explain. “His stepdad really fucked him up,”

“I want to kill that guy,” Sapnap growled, and George was fairly sure he wasn’t joking.

“It’d be a lot easier then whatever it is we’ll do. I don’t know how to get rid of his stepdad without putting his family in danger,”

“I don’t either. I hate this, George. I feel so powerless,”

“I know.” A long stretch of silence passed, the movie in the background the only noise in the whole room.

“Can we talk about what happened with you, though? The other night?” Sapnap said suddenly. It was clear it had been on his mind for a while, which George figured was understandable.

Dread forced its way onto George’s face. He supposed they were going to talk eventually. It might as well be now.

“I’m okay, Sapnap, really. I had a lot to drink and wasn’t in my right mind,”

“Dream said you had pills. Like sleeping pills.”

“I...I did. But I really wasn’t going to take more then I needed to, I promise. I would never do that,” Sapnap didn’t look like he believed George at all. 

“Well, talk to me about that stuff, okay? I was worried.” The conversation was good, but it was strange to see Sapnap so soft and serious. George decided he liked it when Sapnap was being sassy much more.

“I know you were. You’re a good friend, Sap. I don’t say it enough.”

“You say it plenty, George. And you’re a terrible friend, scaring me like that. Made me want to down a bottle of pills, I swear,” Sapnap was joking, but there was an underlying truth to his words, a genuine hatred for the stress he’d been put through. “How are your legs?” 

Dream must have told him about the cuts. George wanted to answer, but he really didn’t know himself. He’d been unable to look at them, scared to see the results of his own destructive spiral.

Or maybe he was scared he would like the way they looked, crisscrossing over ivory skin, marking him, a canvas of his own mistakes. 

Maybe he’d be tempted to continue painting on that sheet-white skin, see what artistic masterpiece he could turn himself into.

He shook away those thoughts as he rolled up the leg of his sweatpants.

The cuts were healing quickly, and he was fairly sure there wasn’t any glass buried deep inside. The stinging and throbbing had been dulled to hardly an ache. He refused to miss the pain. 

Sapnap’s brow furrowed. 

“George...Wow.” He said breathlessly and sort of dissapointedly. 

“It’s not bad. Hardly even hurts, anymore,”

“Still. I wish you hadn’t done that to yourself,”

“Honestly Sap, I only fell. It just happened to be that there was glass below me,” Sapnap nodded, agreeing. George agreed too. It had all been an accident, hadn’t it?

The conversation dulled quickly, fading into a comfortable silence as both of their attentions were grabbed by the TV, some stupid American movie that George hadn’t been paying attention to until this moment. 

“This movie fucking sucks,” Sapnap blurted out aggresively. George was quick to express his agreement.

“It's actually the worst movie I’ve ever seen,”

“Dream has a terrible taste in movies,” Sapnap complained.

“He probably just picked it because he knew it would put him to sleep,” George giggled.

“Well it’s gonna put me to sleep. We’re putting on a better movie,” Sapnap’s words were harsh but George knew he was joking.

“Go ahead. I’m not stopping you.” 

“Well, you are, because you have the remote,” Sapnap shot back.

“No I don’t.” George glanced around him quickly to see, and was confirmed it wasn’t there.

“I don’t have it,” Sapnap argued.

“So you assume I do?”

“Yes.” He said plainly.

“Well I don’t.” George crossed his arms, signaling his confidence in the situation.

“Fine. Go find it then.” Sapnap grumbled dismissively.

“I’m not getting up. You get up.”

“No. This is my house. You have to get me my remote.” 

“I’m the guest. It’s the hospitibal thing to do.” George whined.

“Well I don’t want to be hospitable, I want the remote,” Sapnap said loudly, drawing it out to mock George, speaking just loud enough that the brunette glanced nervously at Dream to make sure he hadn’t woken up. 

“Then go and get it.” George said after making sure the blonde was still passed out.

“Fuck off, George. I’m going to throw something at you.” 

“You’d probably miss.”

“Would not,” Sapnap growled.

“Would too.” George giggled at stuck out his tongue, scrunching his eyes closed to complete the look. It was a mistake on his part, because the next thing he knew there was a pillow in his face, and it was touching his tongue and that was absolutely disgusting.

“Ew! I just licked your pillow!” George screeched.

“How is that my fault?”

“You were the one who threw it, of course it’s your fault!” George demanded, feeling sick.

“I didn’t throw shit. That was all Dream.” Sapnap lied blatantly. George scoffed.

“You’re a liar. A dirty little liar. I’m going to tweet something mean about you.” He whopped out his phone. 

“Oh no you’re not. I’m tweeting about you first,” Sapnap laughed, snatching his own phone from where it lay on the table. 

George ignored his busy feed full of things he cared about but was trying hard to not care about and began typing his perfect insulting and embarrassing tweet. 

Bright light blinded him for a split second, and out of the corner of his eye he saw the flash of a camera and realized too late that Sapnap was taking a photo of him.

How was George supposed to compete with that?

Whatever. He hit post anyway.

“Yes! I posted first! Loser!” George celebrated.

“Yeah, but mine’s funnier.”

His friend’s tweet loaded at last. God, that was a terrible picture of him, eyes red from the flash, half turned to the side because of his late reaction. His black Dream hoodie made his skin look unnaturally white and his sweatpants were still rolled up weirdly on his legs. 

He let out a breath of relief as he made sure that the cuts on his knees weren’t visible due to the angle of the camera. He glanced at the words Sapnap had written.

This idiot really thought he could get away with an irl meetup with Dream and not me what a loser

George giggled. 

“Now everyone knows we’re together.”

“They were gonna find out eventually. What did you post about me...HEY!” Sapnap shouted as he refreshed.

500k likes and ill post the photo of sap in a maid dress

“That doesn’t even exist! What are you going to do if they reach it?”

“Buy you a maid dress.” George laughed. It wasn’t like they’d ever reach that anyway. 

“Not happening,” Sapnap said, shaking his head, but smiling.

“I think it will. Might as well order it right now. You have to pay though,” He added.

“What! We’re not buying me that, and I’m definitely not paying for it,”

George refreshed his page to see what Sapnap had responded and promptly rolled his eyes. 

George we all know I’m not the one you who you really want a picture of wearing a maid dress

“Strong implications there, Sapnap,” He lifted his phone and snapped a picture of Sapnap, glancing down with glee as he saw the photo of his friend was as bad as it was of him,

“Well I meant Dream, if that confused you. I know you can be a little dumb sometimes,”

“Shut up. I undestood just fine,” George grumbled as sent the photo as a response to Sapnap’s tweet. 

This loser’s too lazy to get the remote so we’re on twitter instead 

“I’m not lazy, I’m conserving energy by not wasting it on things you can do perfectly well.”

“That’s literally the definition of lazy.”

“Is not.”

“Is too.”

“You need to go back to school, George. I’m not sure how you graduated.” George pouted at Sapnap’s mean comment as he responded.

“I wowed all my teachers with my Minecraft playing skills.”

“You’re not good enough at Minecraft to impress anyone.” Sapnap said breathily, hardly managing to sa it all before starting to laugh. His laugh was contagious and it infected George immediately. HE still managed to respond, though.

“I’m better then you.”

“You play better with your feet then with your hands.” Sapnap muttered, referencing that one stream George did in which he played bedwars with his hands. That had been fun, he should do that again sometimes.

“It's a talent.” He shrugged. 

“It's concerning, is what it is.”

“Admit it, you're just jealous I’m better,” He let a cheeky grin cover his face.

“1v1 me right now, if you’re so much better.” The dark haired man challenged.

“My laptops in the other room,” George complained. There was no way he was getting up just for that.

“On our phones. Bedrock.” Sapnap was not giving up.

“Tell me you’re joking right now. I can’t play minecraft pocket edition. That's hardly even minecraft.” 

“Sounds like you're backing out, George. Afraid you’ll lose?”

George shook his head, pulling up minecraft even though he didn’t want to. The white loading page was incredibly time consuming, and they both had to wait forever for the world to load, but at last they found themselves on an empty world.

At least they would both be terrible at this.

Grass and trees surrounded the field they’d spawned in. George didn’t wait till Sapnap was ready, just leaped forwards and began hitting him, landing as many critical hits as possible.

Sapnap recovered from surprise impressively quickly, and it wasn’t long before George’s final hearts vanished and he died.

“HAH! You lost! Loser!” Sapnap shouted. Georgr rolled his eyes dismissively, refusing to allow Sapnap any pride.

“I would have beat you on java.” 


	24. Cuddle Gang

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George has a meltdown, we all know who’s going to be there to comfort him.
> 
> Also some Sapnap content.

George closed the door of the dishwasher, waiting a split second until the soft whirring filled his ears, signaling it had started.

He made his way across the empty kitchen, glancing at his phone to check the time.

It wasn’t terribly late, though he should probably go to bed. Dream and Sapnap had both fallen asleep hours ago, and left George wondering why he was so awake. 

He glanced disdainfully at the couch he was supposed to be resting on. There was nothing wrong with it, in fact, it was more comfortable then his own, but he just didn’t feel like sleeping. 

He wasn’t sure what was going on, so he forced himself to sit down, staring at the wall blankly, waiting for sleep that he wasn’t sure would come.

He hardly even noticed the tears that began to slip from his eyes, running down his chine and dripping onto his thighs. 

He hardly even noticed Dream coming up behind him. 

“George?” Dream asked softly. George said nothing, just hiccuped slightly as a result of the silent crying. 

“George, you okay?” Dream made his way around the couch so he could see George’s face. George turned away, but not fast enough. He refused to look at the blonde. He hadn’t meant to wake him, he hadn’t meant to be a problem, yet here he was.

Timid fingers brushed his cheek, tilting his face to the side so Dream could see.

“George…” the blonde looked like he had more to say, but he didn’t say anything else. Instead, George feltarms slide under and around him and then he was being lifted into the air, curled against Dream’s chest like some child. 

He wanted to tell the man to put him down, but all he was able to do was grab fistfuls of his soft shirt and let the tears flow freely down his cheeks.

“Shhh, George, it’s all gonna be okay. It’s alright, don’t cry, you’re okay.”

His words were comforting but they had the opposite effect on George, berra king him apart more and letting a loud, painful sob rip it’s way free. Dream had reached the guest bed by then, and laid George down before sitting in the edge.

George whined, aware of how pitiful he sounded, rising back up feebly and clinging to Dream like a sloth clinging to a tree.

Dream chuckled lightly, not happy but surprised. He held George closer as George shook and cried. The brunette melted into his touch, feeling like the long fingers brushing through his hair were tearing him apart as much as they were holding him together. 

How could Dream be responsible for all his issues and yet be the only thing that soothed them?

Dream repositioned himself on the bed, laying both their heads to the pillow, but keeping George tight to his chest, then folding the covers over the pair. 

They lay still for nearly a minute, the only movement the small circles Dream was rubbing into his back before a soft voice whispered beside him.

“You’ll feel better in the morning, Georgie,” Dream’s voice was so quiet, George hardly heard it. The blonde shifted, untangling himself from George. 

_ Don’t leave. _

Cold air brushed against him as he lost all contact with his best friend.

_ Please stay. _

“Goodnight,”

_ I need you. _

Dream leaned down slightly, pressing soft damp lips against the smaller boy’s forehead. 

_ I love you.  _

George’s breath caught in his throat, a familiarly disturbing flutter emerging in his stomach. Without overthinking it, he leaned forwards and upwards, managing to catch Dream’s departing lips again, but this time with his own. 

It seemed to startle the blonde, as he pulled back quicker.

“Sorry,” George mumbled sleepily, eyelids fluttering to stay open.

“No, no, it’s fine. I just thought you were asleep,” Dream whispered back.

George wanted to respond, but he was too focused on being happy that what he’d assumed was not true. He let his hands find Dream’s, pulling him back so he could kiss him again. 

It was over before it even started, George too tired and still too shaken from his outburst to continue. 

“Can you stay? Please?” He asked. Dream nodded.

“Of course.” Dream resumed awkwardly perching in the bed.

_ Why won’t you touch me? _

“Like, stay stay. After I fall asleep. Just to...be here,” He hated how much he was putting out without getting anything back, but his brain was just saying things.

Dream seemed to finally understand what he wanted.

He climbed under the sheets wordlessly. His arms wrapped around George, then readjusted even tighter until George couldn’t breathe properly, but that was perfect.

His heartbeat was echoing through George’s ear, steady and comforting, and George chose to focus on it. 

A caring thumb swiped softly under his eye, and George realized that the occasional tear was still leaking out. 

He was too tired to be embarrassed.

The hand did not return to his back. instead remained on his cheek, guiding his head into Dream’s collarbone. His forehead touched the soft skin of the bigger mans throat, and he felt Dream’s Adam's apple bob slightly, felt a chin resting in the crown of his head, felt warmth flood through him, happiness and comfort and safety. 

George allowed himself to give in to the enticing warmth without much of a fight.

There were more important battles to win then the one with his own heart.

  
  


**************

Sapnap pushed the door open silently, checking on his friends to make sure they were both alive and accounted for.

And they most definitely were.

Snuggled up together, covers a tangled mess half thrown over them, breathing slow and heavy.

Sapnap smiled and pulled out his phone, snapping a quick photo for blackmail and because there was no way he was letting those two get away with cuddling and not bei by made fun of by the whole group chat. 

He messaged Karl first.

Sapnap: one attachment

Sapnap: look at these two simps i have to deal with

As always, the response was instant.

Karljacobs: awww i can’t wait for that to be us

Sapnap giggled. Then he stopped himself. What the fuck. Since when did he  _ giggle _ ?

Sapnap: oh no not you too

Karljacobs: yes im officially part of the cuddle gang now

Sapnap: wanna play minecraft in a bit?

Karljacobs: always 

He closed the door again, pretending he wasn’t grinning from ear to ear like an idiot, and made his way to the kitchen, pulling some pancake mix out of a cupboard. 

He was just about to pour the batter onto the flying pan he’d placed on the stove when a knock on the door surprised him.

He glanced at himself, taking in his plaid red pajama pants and black hoodie, unbrushed hair and bare feet, but shrugged, because who cares.

The stranger knocked again, forcing Nick into moving.

He opened the door, expecting a neighbor, maybe a salesperson, though it was early.

He was wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who do y’all think it is??? 
> 
> I love leaving you guys on cliffhangers it’s amazing. I get too much serotonin from comments omg.
> 
> Anyway I know this chapter took a while life is just kicking my ass but i’m trying my best and i’m determined to finish this story eventually.


	25. It’s 3 o’clock(it’s not)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sapnap answers the door, they all make plans for the night.

Sapnap felt a smile spread across his face as the door opened. 

“No way…” he laughed. He was not going to admit how happy he was. “Took long enough,” he said out loud.

He took a step outside, then dropped into a crouch. His hands closed around the sides of the cardboard box. He carried it in carefully, even though it's contents weren’t fragile.

His area had recently found a lot of packages being stolen, so Sapnap had begun to request knocking on the door when mail was left, in order to get it inside quicker. 

He set the box down on the kitchen table and grabbed a pen from nearby, forcing the pointed tip under the packing tape and ripping it away, opening the box with slight difficulty.

He really needed to get a good knife for packages one of these days. He pulled the flaps of the box open and withdrew the soft fabric.

It unfolded before him elegantly, purple midsection with multicolored sleeves and a teal swirl in the center. 

Karl’s new merch. 

Well, not technically. His unreleased possible merch, sent just to Karl and Sapnap as of now, bunt going to be released to the fans eventually, if they agreed it was good. And it definitely was. Sapnap loved it. 

He whipped out his phone to text Karl immediately, dropping the hoodie back onto the counter. 

“Karl! Guess what just came!” Sapnap shouted excitedly. 

“No way! It’s finally there?! Wait wait wait be quiet, Dream and George are sleeping,” Karl reminded him.

“Not my problem if they wake up. Karl it looks sooo gooood!”

“Switch to FaceTime i wanna see! Are the colors nice?”

“Yes! It's so pretty, Karl. And it’s so soft!” He slipped it over his head, relishing in it's warmth, and switched the phone call to FaceTime. Then he propped up his phone and took a few steps back.

Karl’s grinning face appeared on camera, gasping at the hoodie.

“It looks so good! Holy honk, it looks so good!” He was so excited Apnpa couldn’t help but grin. He turned around slowly so Karl could get the full 360 before grabbing his phone back and flopping onto the couch. 

“I’m never taking this off, Karl. I’m literally never taking it off,”

“You’re so dumb.” He joked, but Sapnap could see how happy he was.

  
  


*******************

“Holy shit, it’s late. Why didn’t you wake us?” Dream said upon seeing the clock on the microwave.

“I figured you needed to rest. Both of you. But here, I made lunch,” Sapnap pushed a plate of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches towards the two boys.

“So leave tomorrow morning? Road trip to florida?”

“Sounds good to me,” George spoke from the threshold of teh kitchen. His face was flushed with color and Sapnap only just managed to refrain from pointing it out. 

There was a tenseness between the two that told him any jokes would flop, but he decided to ignore it.

“So, how was the cuddling? Karl was jealous,”

If it was possible, George blushed harder.

“You showed Karl?”

“I should show all of twitter, considering I was left out,” He joked bitterly, earning a smile from both his friends.

“We’ll make sure to include you next time,”. Dream laughed. Geroge raised a suspicious eyebrow. 

“There’s a next time?” He came to the counter, pulling out a stool to sit on, but never had the chance, because Dream was on his feet, wrapping his arms around teh smaller boy and lifting him off the ground.

“Yes, there’s a next time,” He grunted through the effort, but walked the few short feet and tossed George roughly on the couch, ignoring the yelps of surprise from teh brunette. He then returned to the counter and resumed eating.

Sapnap snorted, always down to bully his friends and loving the ability to do it in person.

“I’m glad you guys came here. This house was too empty,” He said, sitting across from them.

“Yeah, well, now it's too full. Let's kick Dream out,” George grumbled as he made his way back to the counter. Dream’s smile flickered, almost imperceptibly, before he chuckled. 

“Last time I tried to leave you nearly died,” He pointed out, grinning far wider than he should be while saying a sentence so grim.

“That is not true. I would have been completely fine. It looked worse than it was,” this conversation was edging towards dangerous topics, and Nick quickly changed it’s direction.

“I’m still caught up on how much of a lightweight you are,” Sapnap piped up. 

“Nothing wrong with being a lightweight,”

“Well obviously a lightweight would say that…” Dream added, looking at George, who stuttered to come back with a comeback.

“It’ll cost you way more to get drunk,” he managed to blurt at last.

“Sure, but at least we’ll last the whole night,” Sapnap muttered.

“I can last just fine!” The brunette shot back without thinking.

“I don't know about that,” Dream joked, winking at Sapnap. George’s mouth dropped open at the way his words had been interpreted.

“DREAM!” They both shouted in union, Sapnap reached across the table to shove at him, but stopped himself before they touched, remembering. 

Dream seemed to remember too, from the way his eyes went wide and then scrunched closed, preparing for the contact that never came.

There was a long moment of silence while they all longed for the joking mood that seemed to disappear whenever everyone began to feel normal. 

Sapnap couldn’t help but feel like it was his fault. George had said that Dream had been doing better. And sure, there were a lot of other things it could chalk up to, like the fact that Dream was back in America, in an unfamiliar place with a person he’d spent much less time around, who was naturally more aggressive and much larger.

Muttered apologies broke the silence, words they’d all said over and over again that still felt as hollow as the three of them, simply shells of the young teenagers they once were.

Maybe everything would go back to normal. Maybe Sapnap was stressing over nothing. Or maybe they would all be stuck here forever.

Whichever it was, it wasn’t going to be thought about sober.

“Is it too early to start drinking?” He asked. George nodded.

“It's like, 3 o’clock. I think it's perfect,” He announced. It was, for the record, only 1:30. Sapnap turned away from the clock, pretending he didn’t notice the time. 

“We could walk up to the store and buy more, I barely have anything,” Sapnap proposed, and his two best friends expressed their agreement quickly. 

The three of them wasted no time, scarfing down the rest of their lunch, slipping on shoes and then were out the door, emerging to the bright daylight.

It seemed too sunny and happy out, too beautiful of a day to fit his mood, but he figured it fit in it’s own way, taunting him and teaching him that everything could have been perfect.

If only he knew exactly when he’d gone wrong, exactly when everything became so complicated. 

Everything was moving too fast for him, and his poor brain hadn’t had time to sort it all out.

This new friendship with Karl, this more-than-friendship between Dream and George, and this new plan to get some random asshole in jail. 

He’d just have to hope it all turned out okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BAHAHAHAHA YALL THOUGHT! Nope no Karl at the doorstep and i’m not mean enough to do anyone bad...yet. hehe. Anyways i can’t wait to write Dream and George and Sapnap absolutely wasted. this is gonna be fun.


End file.
